Metal upon metal. A echoing clang, seemingly reverberating forever.
The girl could hear such a sound. Muffled, as though hidden away in some distant alcove, but it was there.
"Such a strange sound," she thought. A sound she would never have thought to hear, with the wind roaring in her ears, and yet, it was there.
Clang. Clang. Clang. The sound of scraping metal. Two tiny taps, then the clanging renewed.
It was clockwork. Repetitive. Noise to most.
Yet the girl was drawn to the sound. Like clear bells on a windy summer afternoon.
As if listening to her plea, the dream slowed down. The wind calmed, and the sound grew louder. And as it did, in her heart of hearts, the girl felt a fear.
But of what?