As the three slowly travel across the ice, the breeze blows slightly stronger with no trees around to block the wind. The lake truly is massive. The mountains seem to loom even taller the further they go, while the wailing grows louder. Eventually, they get close enough to the strange bonfire that even Hermione can see it.

“…!”

Clover blinks. …It’s not a bonfire at all. It’s a funeral pyre. Engulfed in the flames, a humanoid figure is burning at the stake.

“aaaaaaaa… aaaaaaaaaaaaa… AAaaaaaaAAaa…”

Arms tied behind it, the feminine figure seems to be sobbing as she looks up to the sky. A gust of wind blows, and the ashes from the flames rise up into the clouds, to mix and fall back down as grey snow.

“w-what… is this?” ‘Beatrice’ mutters, eyes wide in shock.

Lorene gauges the distance. There was probably around twenty yards between them and the pyre.

>Approach?