Waif

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The Waif is the manifestation of the air that fills an abandoned room, of the feeling that exists within quiet hallways late at night. It is a forest clearing empty of any living animal, as silent as the dead. It favors that which has been abandoned.

It is not malicious, but it is not benevolent. It will show itself to anyone but especially those close to death, and those who were isolated or cast out. It will only affect you if you approach it first. It appears as a scrawny child, extending it's frostbitten hand.

Look closer, and you will see that it lacks a mouth. That it's hands are not frostbitten but are frost, that your limbs feel heavier the closer you are and that the cold air in the room coalesces into freezing temperatures around it. The nearer you get, the more you can hear the blood in your ears, a sound that morphs into something not unlike strong, stormy winds.

It overwhelms those that follow and drains your energy the more you walk beside it.
Eventually, when you have awoken from a state of unconsciousness you don't remember entering, it will be gone. You are not in the place you saw it before. You are in an empty house. The fireplace across the room has been sitting unlit for decades. There is no light, there is no furniture, the only sign of life is crumbling leaves scattered around the floor, blown in by biting winds through shattered windows.

You may leave. You may find your way back. But your bones will always feel as if they are covered in a layer of frost, never quite getting warm.
There is always something that fills in the abandoned spaces, and now it knows of you.

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inspiration linked in image
not a fandragon, but also not not a fandragon