[quote=@Tatterdemalion]
SECOND PLACE
WEREWOLF MAGNET
OUT OF STRINGS ON TIMMY

Out. Out out out out. The room is closing in on her, the walls are shrinking, she’s being packed in a box that’s going to be shipped to Margot and Timmy— [i]Timothy[/i] is never going to speak to her again and “the vampire made me do it” is such a lame excuse and, and her throat is tight, the room is hot and tight and small and Annalee and Timmy are together and she’s still stupid second place went too fast tried to catch him before he left her behind but now it’s over it’s done she can’t ever have the picket fence because she’s broken and stupid and the room is spinning and where’s a door where’s a door she knows the knock where is the [i]door[/i]

Elodie Faucher shrieks. It’s the shriek of the ghost standing behind you in the mirror. It’s the shriek of Death abjured by a doctor. It’s the shriek of rusty hedge trimmers and shed hinges in a field that’s never finished the harvest. It is a [i]dead[/i] shriek, and when she turns and flies to the window it is with the jerky motion of a thing that is not alive.

She slams it open, and the darkness of [i]The[/i] Forest is on the other side. You know the one. The Black Forest, Sherwood, Mirkwood, the Hercynian. She flings herself through, into the underbrush, and flees. Her wail is almost immediately choked out by the thickness of the wood.

She is going to be in very big trouble when she is found, but she doesn’t care. What else can they do to her? Lock her up with Margot until she’s properly tamed and has an appropriate relationship? Ha, joke’s on them, that’s going to happen whether or not she wants it!

[Looking Glass, [b]12.[/b] She can make her way back whenever she wants, and nothing comes back Through.]
[/quote]

Nothing disturbs you, Elodie. A forest like this one is a dark and twisted place that is full of life and energy and adventure, but forests are also places of privacy and silence. You are free to run, and scream, and strike the earth and none will interrupt you for some time still. Time enough to lose yourself, and subsequently determine your destination - or decide on who would make a good travelling companion to drag through with you.