The exhaustion hit her like a hammer. She slowed to a stop. Now, with all this distance, she felt silly for running. She didn't even know why she had been so scared. She knew what she was scared of, but she wasn't sure why she was scared of him. She remembered the man, and shivered a little. Something about the sight of him, about what he was, terrified her. Her fear had to be based off the knowledge she had lost. Had something happened to her? Was she sick? Why couldn't she remember anything? Her brain supplied the name of her ailment— "Amnesia." The word came with a little tag of knowledge. Amnesia was a lack of memory, caused usually by physical or psychological trauma. Psychological trauma was when something terrible happened and the mind took some sort of damage? Was it something like that?

She slowed down to a stop and looked down at herself. Perhaps there was some sort of clue as to what caused the damage, but there was nothing really. Just a few unrecognized but familiar marks on her arms, pretty much a part of her, and a few scratches too that she didn't recognize. The clothing she wore seemed a bit strange, she didn't exactly recoil from it, but there was something about it that made her uncomfortable. Her clothes were strangely revealing. If there were other clothes she could have worn, perhaps something that made her feel less vulnerable... well, there weren't, so there was no point in dwelling on it.

She raised her head and began to check her surroundings. Suddenly, she was feeling so very self-conscious in her revealing clothing. She didn't want to be seen like this. She was on a path now, when she had stumbled upon it, she didn’t know. [i]First things first, get off the damned path you stupid bitch![/i] She was startled by the vicious thought that appeared unbidden in her mind, but she obeyed it. What kind of person had she been to think like that? To think and talk at herself like that, especially when she was an amnesiac, was strange. How well-worn were those paths of her mind that she still had such thoughts? 

Admittedly, she didn’t know much about Amnesia besides the basic definition. Maybe it was normal to still have some strong thoughts seem to appear out of the blue? Maybe it was normal to think and instinctively act a certain way? Whether it was normal or not, she didn’t know, and she doubted she could find out in the middle of wherever she was. So, as she pushed her way through the foliage, she reflected on herself and her thoughts. 

The sudden appearance of such a vehement thought was a bit disconcerting. After all, these odd thoughts were appearing out of nowhere and they were a bit vicious and tinged with something unpleasant. She couldn’t quite put a finger on the reason though. There was some sort of tinge of bitterness and anger in her thoughts. More importantly, her thoughts in general seemed to tend towards a negative side. Did she just like being a pessimist? Maybe not, the feelings were a little too strong for that. So what was it? Why was she like this?

She tried to puzzle through her thoughts and emotions for a short time, but couldn’t come to any conclusion. The exhaustion she felt further destroyed her will to explore her “self” and find out what she truly thought. There was something there, something buried in her mind. Her only clues were her thoughts that would come and go whenever they wanted, just like a cat. [i]“Women and cats will do as they please, and men and dogs should relax and get used to the idea”[/i] her mind supplied. There were strong overtones of irony in that quote. Clearly, her past self disagreed.

Again she couldn’t help but feel that instinctive terror of men when she thought of them. Perhaps she had a good reason to fear men. Something about them put her off. Something about them made her feel tiny and weak and helpless. It was an unpleasant feeling to say the least. The tiniest little whims of men could make her or break her, she knew this somehow. She needed them as well, as terrifying as they were to her. There had been something in the past that had helped protect her. It was something, she remembered, that made her feel better and made the terror easier to bear. 

She missed it desperately. The feeling of safety and comfort it offered her, that senselessness, that peace… She couldn’t remember what it was, but her knowledge told her that it was there, and it existed. She wanted to get it in her hands. Her fingers twitched with the thought of it, even if she couldn’t remember the shape, or appearance, or what it was. If it could offer that… she didn’t care what it would do to her. Since she’d woken up, all she’d felt was confusion and terror and frustration. It was enough to make her long for something that could give her peace of mind. Perhaps… perhaps it was something she could find here.

She began to pick up her pace when suddenly a cat in a strange little vest shot out from the underbrush. She skidded to a stop in an effort to avoid tripping over the creature. The fact that it was wearing clothes was strange. It was stranger when, it began to talk. According to her knowledge and instincts, this was a very strange situation indeed. Cats did not talk, but again, she wasn’t sure how she knew that. So, she eyed it and tried to keep her jaw from dropping. Something about a talking cat was suspicious, but for an odd reason, she felt a niggling sense of familiarity. Had she met this cat before? Had she seen a talking cat before? Nevermind, it didn’t matter. She doubted she could figure it out so easily, and she was not in the mood to puzzle over this until she had a headache. She dismissed it from her mind and chose to accept this strange situation at face value.

Due to the distracting thoughts in her head, she almost forgot to answer the cat. Though why she had to answer a talking cat was beyond her. Then it dawned on her, she really didn’t have to. She almost said it was none of the cat’s business, almost, but then she remembered that it seemed to know something about her. It must have been at the crater too. It had managed to catch up to her, so would the man follow the cat? Would he catch up to her too? There was no guarantee that the cat had been with them in the crater after all, or that the men knew of the cat. But… that didn’t mean that she was safe. Urgently she questioned the cat, though she kept a tight reign on her rising terror. 

“Did the men at the crater follow you?”