Back in high school, I was given the opportunity to go on a three day hiking trip with a bunch of classmates. On the first night of the trip, it was cold and wet, around zero degrees Celsius. The moon was almost full so the valley we made camp in was fairly bright. Everyone was asleep and I woke up to go bathroom. After I was done, my attention was fully set on the ridge across the river. For reference, we were the only group on the nearly fifteen kilometer trail, the particular part of the ridge had no trails leading to the area, and was very dense with foliage. There I could see a tall figure, almost half as tall as the surrounding trees, with a abnormally skinny frame and a clumsy yet silent gait. It walked along the ridgeline where it were to stop and look at me, then walk deeper into the forest where I lost sight of it. After that night, the following two days went by without, at least I did not see it, anyone seeing or even knowing about it. But, the morning of the final day, I remember seeing large branches, over three meters long, broken yet they were fine the day before, no storm not even a breeze occurred the two nights there. Or fallen trees moved in ways that we could not have. But no one seemed to notice these changes, or ever claimed to saw the same thing I saw.