The Whisper in Bedtime Lodge

Ned peered through his glasses at the eerie silhouette of Bedtime Lodge. A place where dreams pirouetted with nightmares, it had an odd charm. The wooden sign creaked in the wind, reading, "Welcome to Bedtime Lodge – Sleep Tight." It was as cozy as scary could get.

Ned pushed open the heavy door. It groaned in protest.

Inside, dim light bulbs swung, casting dancing shadows. Ned's bright blue eyes shone with curiosity as they darted around. His fingers brushed against some dusty books when he felt a sharp pinch.

Flinching, he looked down to see a small, crimson pebble glinting in his hand. "Weird," he muttered.

The pebble suddenly shivered, and Ned’s heart raced. It felt like it had a life of its own.

The Whispering Wind

Ned's heart was still racing as he felt the pebble warm in his palm. He glanced around the dim room. Alone...or so he thought.

"Who dares disturb my silence?" croaked a voice from the shadows.

Ned spun around to find a raven, shiny with midnight-black feathers, perched on a dusty shelf. The bird's sharp eyes glinted with suspicion.

"A talking raven?" Ned whispered, blinking.

"Name's Quibbles," the raven announced. "And you, young human, are meddling with forces you don't understand."

Ned held up the pebble. "This just appeared. Do you know what it is?"

Quibbles tilted his head and eyed the pebble skeptically. "Don't know if it's treasure or trouble. But I do know it's pointing northeast."

Ned noticed the pebble indeed seemed to pulse and glow, hinting a direction. "Northeast? What's that way?"

"Not all paths lead to gold," Quibbles cawed. "Sometimes they lead to answers."

Ned shrugged. "Then let's find out."

With that, Quibbles fluttered down to join Ned. The duo walked towards the door, curiosity leading the way.