If asked, she'd not be able to say how long she stumbled through the woods. Susan had lost the intended path almost immediately and struggles on despite that, her only plan to keep moving for as long as she can. Branches and brush catch and tear violently at her hair and clothing; each shadow whispers cruel things and early-morning mists swirl around her like smoke in the darkness.
Eventually, as the sky above the trees begins to lighten, she pushes through another set of briar-studded brambles and emerges on a path. Susan looks helplessly back and forth along it. She doesn't recognize either direction, not really, but there's a fork off ahead on one side, and she supposes that's good enough. Susan starts toward it.
The right-hand fork leads along a narrow path she's sure she's never seen. There's a fallen log ahead, partially blocking the way, but not so much that she couldn't get by, and she sees a curve beyond which leads behind a stand of trees and deeper into the forest.
Uncertain, Susan starts in that direction, only for a light breeze to catch her hair as she takes the first step. She stops to shove it back from her face, and as she does the other fork catches her eye. There's something familiar about it, something comforting, and on the instant she changes direction. As she walks, she becomes more and more certain of the way, and soon enough she's running.
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If asked, she'd not be able to say how long she stumbled through the woods. Susan had lost the intended path almost immediately and struggles on despite that, her only plan to keep moving for as long as she can. Branches and brush catch and tear violently at her hair and clothing; each shadow whispers cruel things and early-morning mists swirl around her like smoke in the darkness.
Eventually, as the sky above the trees begins to lighten, she pushes through another set of briar-studded brambles and emerges on a path. Susan looks helplessly back and forth along it. She doesn't recognize either direction, not really, but there's a fork off ahead on one side, and she supposes that's good enough. Susan starts toward it.
The right-hand fork leads along a narrow path she's sure she's never seen. There's a fallen log ahead, partially blocking the way, but not so much that she couldn't get by, and she sees a curve beyond which leads behind a stand of trees and deeper into the forest.
Uncertain, Susan starts in that direction, only for a light breeze to catch her hair as she takes the first step. She stops to shove it back from her face, and as she does the other fork catches her eye. There's something familiar about it, something comforting, and on the instant she changes direction. As she walks, she becomes more and more certain of the way, and soon enough she's running.