[b]Character:[/b] Danielle Mason [b]Location:[/b] Leaving the Church of the Creator and heading elsewhere [b]With:[/b] No one...but herself... [hr] [@Frengo] Dead leaves crunched and crinkled with each slow, weary step she took through the barren growth, the all too familiar chill of...being watched...creeping up her backside. This place...the more she stayed here, the more she felt as if...it was more than a forest, like she was traversing the cold and calloused flesh of some living creature, an abomination that was long forsaken...and buried beneath the packed mud and layers of dead, festering forestry. Strange moans and lamenting groans, they permeated the irritable silence that hung over the forest, momentarily broken by the sound of her foot rustling through leaves and twigs. Danielle shivered all the more, pushing herself further and further, praying that there would be an opening soon to this labyrinthine hollow. She swore for the most part she was going in circles, that the forest was altering itself in some...bizarre fashion to keep her trapped, alone, and confused beyond all reasoning. And...she couldn't shake that feeling, that of eyes observing her in the deep veil of shadows, a creature lost in obscurity and raving with delirium, licking its chomps insatiably for a taste of what else but her flesh and blood. If another monstrosity like that....whatever that was back at the church...were to attack her, no way would she in her battered and weakened state be able to drive them back. It would be a feast of sinister delight as it mangled her flesh and tore out her entrails to the horror her very eyes would behold. [i]"Cut it out, Dani! You're just scaring yourself now."[/i] She chided her wandering mind for traversing such dark subjects, but the thoughts couldn't help but be entertained given her grim situation. A few feet into the mist and mire, a peculiar sound had caught her ear. Was that....water? The gentle babble...if it wasn't for the cawing of ravens and those...[i]other[/i] noises, then surely it would have been welcomed to her. The sound of water trickling always had that calming effect on her, yet she never knew why, Danielle. The sound of the water she followed until emerging upon sight of a river, a swift, flowing river at that. How thirsty she was, her mouth feeling as if she had been swallowing salt and sand for days on end, even though it's only been a sparse few hours she's been here....wherever this was. But....one look at the river...or rather...one smell and any thoughts of drinking from it were thrown out the window. [i]"Ewww... I've seen better water in a truck stop toilet. No way I'm gulping that down."[/i] Her nose scrunched sniffing of the foul liquid. Was water supposed to be this black...and reek of nearly hundreds upon hundreds of dead fish? In fact...there were dead fish, all in the river, floating upon the surface only to be carried away by the tumultuous, rolling current. If water wasn't even safe for the fish in this place, then most certainly a human had no business swallowing it, no matter how desperate they were to quench their insatiable thirst. She sighed, disappointed that she would have to search elsewhere for sustenance. Another realization was how was she going to cross such a river. One step into the current and surely she would be dragged underneath...down into the depths of a watery grave, plus....why would she even think swimming in it was a better idea than drinking it? [i]"I need to find a way across. Maybe a log or something."[/i] Danielle pondered searching about the river bank, eyes skimming to and fro in need of said log, but none she could find. Although....something did indeed catch her eye. [i]"What the....O-oh my God!"[/i] A body was beside the river, immobile, lifeless, and yet...they didn't appear to be dead. Cautious she approached them, the dim glow of her flashlight upon the disheveled figure. Their clothes, judging by that alone, Danielle could pinpoint this...John Doe was a soldier perhaps, that or just one of those paranoid survivalist freaks with way too many guns and anxiety, not the best combination in her opinion. But wait...they were still....breathing? Albeit subtle, she could detect hints of life remaining within them, the frail movement of their body indicating they still had a pulse. Now the real question... Were they friendly...or....were they going to rip the flesh from her bones?