The night is filled with thick ink splashed out.
The heavy rain pierced the forest canopy, soaking the entire ancient Italian forest in an icy noise.
Erin felt like she was going to die.
The fiber clothing in modern cities has no function at all in the wild. The soaked fabric clings to her skin, greedily sucking away every remaining bit of her body temperature.
In her hand she held a worn map that was almost turning into pulp.
She found this from an antique stall in Florence. She thought it was an interesting souvenir, but unexpectedly it became her only hope after getting lost.
