Her grandfather remained still, allowing the men to each exhaust their concerns, and Kelty felt fixed to the spot under his glowering eye.

"...for what better way to lure and ensnare good people than with pretty lights?"

"I'm just grateful the children didn't see them or we'd have real problems. Their minds are so easily corrupted."

The other men nodded, but Kelty's grandfather remained stoic as the statue in the town square. The men fell silent, and all looked to Kelty's grandfather.

"What say you?"

He stood quite still, so a gust of snow whipped up and settled upon his shoulders and Kelty wondered if he hadn't turned to stone.

Pausing for effect, said the Voice. He's so prone to theatrics, the old donkey.