He couldn't tell how long he'd been wandering. The Gravity Falls Woods had that effect sometimes; as though the land itself were alive. Dipper was tempted to laugh the thought off, but recent experiences made him keep hold of the idea.
That fact that, currently, said woods were inundated with a thick fog really didn't help that perception much.
Still he wandered, heading in the direction of the Mystery Shack, or some nearby environ. And wandered. And wandered. Until the fog lifted, in the dull orange light of a campfire. Dipper glanced around, looking around. Nobody was there, but-
"Well, are you going to sit down? Or do you intend to keep gawking?"
Dipper started, glancing. The old man on the other side of the fire leaned forward. He was thin, but it was an almost canine kind of thin, lean muscle obvious even through the thick blue flannel shirt he wore. Dipper sat across from the man, looking away, then back. The old man was still there, hat slung low enough that his right eye was hidden between shadow and the felt brim.
"Out a ways this evening," the man remarked. "What brings you here?"
"I was following something," Dipper said, trying to avoid mentioning the journal sitting in the inside pocket of his vest.
"Something you saw? Bird?" The man stroked his long beard. "Be a bit hard in this weather."
"Well, it was lighter near the edge of the forest," Dipper allowed, shifting his weight and trying to get comfortable. Somewhere nearby, a crow caw'd, a harsh note. The man tilted his head, listening.
"Sure it wasn't something from that book in your vest?" The old man's visible eye bored into Dipper's eyes. The young boy felt sweat bead on his forehead.
"How did you-"
"Know a lot of things. Birds know a lot of things, too." The old man leaned back. "Still doesn't answer my question."
Dipper paused, then nodded. Again, the crows in the tree sounded, and the man listening. This time, he turned his head towards the noise. "I'm getting to that! Keep your pinions in!" he snapped, and the crowing birds fell silent.
"Now, here's the question everyone-" The old man paused, firing a glare into the branches of the fir tree above him- "Wants the answer to: How far are you willing to go with this? Until you've gotten all the answers?"
"And if I am?" Dipper replied, cautious about speaking on anything related to the journal outside of a small circle of people.
"Then my advice to you, boy," the man responded, rising to his feet, "Is to be much more careful than you're being." Dipper stiffened as the man stepped towards the fire, and the shadow covering his other vanished. Dipper found himself staring into an empty eye socket, the skin around it marred only by an X-shaped scar over it. "Because, Dipper Pines, knowledge and wisdom have a price. And the knowledge you seek has a steep price indeed. Time comes, will you be able to pay?"
"I...think I should go now," Dipper said quickly by way of response. The old man continued to glare at him, even as a pair of crows came to perch on his shoulders.
"I think you should, too."
Dipper snapped awake, inhaling sharply. "Man, what kind of dream was that?" he asked the ceiling of his attic room in the Mystery Shack. He sat upright, listening to the soft breathing of his twin sister and the soft snoring of her pet pig.
"At least it was a dream."
His hand brushed something. He brought the something up to his sight. It was a pair of crow feathers, tied together with a strand of leather. Dipper sat and stared at them for a long time.
