Where the fuck is she? Where the fuck? She looks around sharply, aggressively and helplessly freaking the fuck out. She's on her stomach on the ground, which is all moss and leaves and twigs and dirt, and everything is dark as shit. She scrambles up, breathing heavily, looking around. Okay. Okay. Calm down. Why is she not calming down? She's fine. Everything's fine.

Fuck, no it is not. She's terrified, and she can't figure out why. She wraps her arms around herself and stares around at the endless press of trees, all the way around. Fuuuuck.

"Did we cross over again?" says a voice just above her.

"Holy fucking shit!" she shrieks, jerking to the side, looking up. "Who the fuck was that?!"

"Calm down, god." A bird - a bird - flutters down and settles on a branch opposite her, looking at her. It opens its beak and talks. "My name is Aqil. I'm here with you."

"You're a bird," she says, supremely unimpressed.

"I'm a crow," he replies. "Obviously not a proper crow. But your guess is as good as mine beyond that." He fluffs his wings up. "So, we should probably go somewhere, see if there's anyone around."

Iman stares at the crow. This is it. She's finally lost it.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," he says dryly. "Are you just going to stand there?"

"Fuck off," she says, turning away sharply and marching stubbornly deeper into the woods. She doesn't look back, but she knows - somehow - that the bird is following her.

"Charmer," he comments after a moment. Iman flips him off and continues walking, sullen, and still very, very afraid.