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grief, with picking up her joy. Finally, she stopped walking. She reached her arms up in the air, stretching her body tall, lifting her eyes to the tree canopy above, lifting her chest, as if praying.
    As she lowered her arms, her eyes lit on her left hand, and she felt a sudden jolt of alarm.
    I used to have a ring, didn’t I?
    A strange buzzing filled her ears and gripped her with a sense of panic.
    What’s happened to it? How come there’s not even an indentation to show where it was?
    Holding her left hand in her right, she stared hard at the finger where the ring should be. It was hard to see – with dismay, she noticed the fading light. It was getting dark. Fast. She looked around her with rapidly growing unease.
    The sun had already moved below the tree line, and the sky was becoming overcast. Suddenly night was here, leaping out at her from the shadows. Even as she let her hand fall back to her side, the trees were fading from green to grey; soon, they would be black. She felt a chill of fear, augmented by the suddenly noticeable coolness in the air. It must be because I’ve stopped running. I need to put on more clothes. Quickly, she pulled her long-sleeved t-shirt over her head, and slipped the orange windbreaker over the top, noting with dismay that the shirt was still damp. The extra layers didn’t help; she quickly began to shiver. Trying to generate warmth, she rubbed her hands together. Her fingertips would soon be turning white as her body preserved heat for her core. Steeling herself, she took a deep breath and looked around.
    The path had become misty, as if suddenly peopled by strange spirits. It had been straight earlier in the day, but now it appeared winding and rooted. Her pulse lifted. Even the friendly cathedral trees looked threatening, standing tall and emaciated. She shook her head and took her eyes from the tall trees, looking down to the ground. Got to calm down .
    Her breath caught in her throat – on the forest floor, the tree roots looked like snakes. A bolt of fear shot through her, making her step back fast, breathing out hard, opening her eyes so wide that it hurt and staring hard at the spot where she was certain she’d just seen movement. She waited several moments. It had been an illusion. It was just a tree root.
    “It wasn’t a snake,” she said, experimenting with her voice – it was reassuring to hear a voice, even if it were just her own. She continued to talk aloud, choosing her words carefully. “You’re going to be okay. Don’t worry. You can do this. You’ll find shelter. Stay calm…”
    She fought the urge to run, to panic – that would be the worst thing she could do. It would waste valuable time, and only scare her more. And there would be snakes out at this time of night. She forced herself to take deeper breaths. It was smarter to move slowly, to give them time to feel the vibrations of her footsteps. They were shy creatures, and would just crawl away. If they heard her coming.
    She began to walk again, stepping carefully. The forest became thick with night, and, though she moved slowly, she kept stumbling over tree roots and rocks. The shock of it made her heart thud painfully.
    “See, Fernando was right,” she said sharply. “You’re so stupid! You wasted all that time with your running, and now you don’t have anywhere to sleep. You don’t know how to do this alone. So smug, feeling so free. And now you’ve failed on your first night, not even finding shelter.”
    She hated the disgust, the bite of the words, but found it impossible to silence herself. Even when she stopped speaking aloud, the voice continued in her head. Stupid, stupid, stupid …
    In frustration, she growled aloud, trying to drown out the interior dialog. The growl was frightening. Uncontrolled. She glanced around her quickly, scared at being alone but suddenly even more frightened that she might not be alone.
    She stopped moving. It was safer to stay right where she was, to