It's night; the moon is barely visible, a waning nothing hidden away behind clouds. The sky is starless; if they're up there - and they may not be - they certainly aren't visible. Everything's cast in long shadows; the only thing clear is the crossroad.

Five dirt and gravel roads converge in one empty space, weeds growing along the center thanks to disuse and abandonment. No one's been here in a long time; perhaps no one should be here. And yet, several people are. There's a surge of relief; each thought he or she was completely alone, lost on this old and unused road, forgotten and unneeded. If they disappeared, no one would notice.

But there are others! That's cause for hope; others to be recognized, to offer help. Because as dark as the night is, as far as they are from any hint of civilization, that's what they need most: help.