RIDING THE ENTIRE PACK As my feet continued ever onward between the trees, I knew that I was wandering towards my death. I could hear the rustle between the leaves; the forest itself seemed to watch me pass. It quietly whistled now, singing me to my demise as my bare feet repeatedly struck the lush grass. As desperately as I could, I staved off every fearful thought, every last doubt that I was perhaps doing the wrong thing by descending so heavily into the woods. Nobody ever came this far out. There were tales of hideous things out in these depths – wicked gnashing creatures that slipped from limb to limb, ancient gnarled trees that reached down to scoop up unsuspecting travelers, even beautiful sirens who whispered convincing lies in the ears of passersby and luring them to their horrible deaths. I did everything I could to ignore all of these tales and more as I pressed onward. If I was going to survive, I needed to pass out of the woods and maybe find my way back home.
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