"You'd hear small whispers mostly, here-say and tell tales of the witch of the hills, the Barstow Barrow Wight. Nobody put much stock in them though, they were just crazy stories people'd drummed up in boredom. We all laughed about it as children, told ghost stories about it as teens and moved on as we grew up. The years stretched on and the stories lessened, the memories of what once was eroded by time. Most people seemed to forget about the legend until like us, on a cold windy night, she too came out to feed."