The further she walked into the woods, the taller and wider the trees seemed to grow.
As she passed by a small bench in a clearing she realised she'd never been so far in.
It had always been her stopping point, proverbial barricade between her and the deep woodland.
Today though she saw a white dog walk past and worried it was someone's pet.
Which brings us to now, wherein she is surrounded by tree trunks as wide a cars.
The bark was the darkest shade of brown she'd ever seen on a tree - practically pitch coloured.
She was on the right trail at least, the dog's pale form flickered between the ground foliage.
It was like a lighthouse beacon guiding her through the murky forest's depths.
After what felt like hours of walking both she and the dog came to a second clearing.
To one side there was a cottage not much higher than her waist with a river running by it.
A bench identical to her usual one stood nearby with fresh food laid out on it.
Suddenly feeling tired and hungry from her long walk she sat down, debating if she should eat.
Surely at least a drink couldn't hurt, she could even blame the white dog that wouldn't stop staring
at her as it began to crawl towards the table.
It moved its limbs in an almost human way, paws looking so much like hands.
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