The Ghostmallow

Highroller padded across half-beaten trails, faded to time and partially buried under late autumn leaves. The sun set over the horizon, the blinding bright star blocked from view by the thick forest of orange-yellow trees. The afternoon breeze sent a slight chill through their body. They had been walking for quite some time now, and while their aching body urged them to stop, they remained defiant.
As they continued, their scenery began to change. The further they walked, the more devoid of color the grass was becoming. Trees became sparse, and those they did see were dark and leafless. Mist hovered slightly above the ground like a sheet, and fog began to impair their vision.
But still they continued forward.
Then they heard something.
Ears perked and alert, Highroller turned their head to see a beast of considerable size had been tailing them— the seasonal melted monstrosity of the Ghostmallow.