Lost

A slow, agonizing numbness rouses you awake in greeting of a hard, cold dirt bed where you had apparently slumbered. With substantial effort you push up to your feet, stumbling forward a couple steps as your legs threatened to disobey you. You swivel your gaze slowly towards the left and then to the right, confusion setting in as there is nothing but dark forest surrounding you. Where are [[you]]?

Squinting, you try to focus on an exit through the trees, but the looming fog is thick, choking out whatever lay beyond a few feet of your location. A dark canopy lies above your head, blocking out any hope of light as it swelled with a seemingly endless amount of spiney tree branches. Your eyes follow these branches down to the thick tree trunks, whose roots dared to breach the confinements of the ground below them. //These are not normal//, you think, as your eyes further follow each one down the row, all which seemed to curve inwards towards you as though they were waiting for your arrival. Your eyes drift in front of you. The forest floor was bluntly divided by a single, grainy dirt path that unnaturally cut through the forest in a linear fashion. You are the only living thing on this path, no snail or leaf or root from the intrusive trees seem to dare touch it. As your eyes drift more you begin to feel the odd sensation like you were being watched, like an omnipresent force lingered in the very depths of your mind. [[Call out for someone.]] [[Walk forward.]]

Silence. Not even the trees seemed to whisper nor did the wind howl. The numbness once again travelled up from your feet and to your chest, making it tighten. The trees seem to curve inward even further, caving in on the only sanity you were holding dear. If only there was one small inkling of life to be witnessed, one miniscule hoot of an owl or the tiny marching of worker ants. There is only you, suffocated with the silence that would never cease. There is nothing. There is no one. Are you [[Lost]]?

With each passing step you become more aware that you are slowing down until you are no more than inching forward on this narrow dirt path. The darkness closes in on you further and the deathly silence seems to grow more overwhelming as time continues, suffocating you. There is nothing. There is no one. Are you [[Lost]]?

A soft flutter catches you off guard and your heart skips two times as fast, rummaging around your pockets for the source. You stop searching abruptly and slowly bring forth your curled hand, opening it slightly as a small white butterfly fluttered its wings, as though it had been stashed away in your pocket for quite some time. Confused, your free hand touches the spot beneath it, noticing the skin it was perched on now had a flushed, colored tint that looked odd against the rest of your monotone, greyed out features. It's captivating and yet all the more intimidating amongst the darkened lights. [[Squish it, there's a possibility it's a trick...]] [[Speak to it.]] [[Try to get away.]]

//Of course this is a trick,// you think, there is nothing more unreal than pulling a live albino butterfly from your pocket. It's more absurd than a rabbit out of a hat. This darkness is tricking you, the trees watching, waiting for you to mess up like you have so many times before. Panic and paranoia swell within your mind as your hand rose above the small, helpless butterfly, wavering for a few seconds as reality began to slip from your grasp. Slamming your hand down against the insect, your eyes watch the light disappear from it. Letting its now lifeless form drop to the ground, you push from the path, intersecting yourself between two trees. From the path your mindless body wanders further and further into the fog until it can no longer be seen. No one. Nothing. You are lost.

You paused, watching cautiously as the butterfly dipped its wings down once again and brought them back up. Your curiosity seemed to get the better of you as you greet the winged creature. The sound of your own voice catches you off guard, as it cut through the nervousness you were feeling previously. As though in response, the small insect picked up off your hand and hovered a bit. "Your name is?" It spoke? No. It was a bug, it couldn't speak. Remaining silent, you somewhat began to slip into the belief that perhaps this was a trick after all. "Your name?" The second time rang smoother, louder, and yet more soothing in your mind. As though this was the first voice you had heard in decades. [[Tell the butterfly your name.]] [["Why should I trust you with my name."]] [[Refuse.]]

The bright light startles you, as well as the unknown origin of this winged creature. Taking a small step back, you go to turn away, to free yourself from this situation. //If only I could run//, you think, your legs would carry you away faster than they had brought you. Perhaps you would stray off the path, escape through the trees... "Wait, you must not go!" It spoke? No. It was a bug, it couldn't speak. Remaining silent, you somewhat began to slip into the belief that perhaps this was a trick after all. A gentle flutter and the butterfly was once again in front of you, blocking your path like an obstructuve building. You turn away again, but again, the insect seems to be stubborn, if they had the capacity of being stubborn of course. "Your name is?" The second time rang smoother, louder, and yet more soothing in your mind. As though this was the first voice you had heard in decades. [[Tell the butterfly your name.]] [["Why should I trust you with my name."]] [[Refuse.]]

You tell the butterfly your name, though it is gibberish on your tongue. Is that your name? Is that //really// your name? It seems so surreal as your name does not belong in this world, this darkness. You should have made one up to begin with. Satisfied with your answer, the butterfly gently floats around you, its pale wings catching your eyes as it draws closer to your face. For a brief moment you are blinded, eyes transfixed on the whiteness and purity of the insect that you once were wary of. Perhaps it was the relief that, even for a small creature such as this, it knows your name. To know //you// and your name and who you are in all your disconnected nature to this dark forest. For that brief moment, there is bliss. The butterfly passes your field of view and an array of color pours into your line of sight. The dark trees now dance bright colors of autumn, light pouring through the canopy overhead. Your hands flush with the indication of blood beneath your skin, the previously debilitating numbness slowly altering into a low burning sensation beneath your toes, as though they were feeling the ground for the first time when you wiggled them. The butterfly floated carelessly down the straight dirt path, leaving a trail of color behind it. You must [[follow]] it.

You are suspicious and wary, unsure of what to think of this newly found creature. It hovered to the left a bit and to the right after, copying your head tilting in order to remain entirely front and center. "Why shouldn't you?" It's voice grew a bit louder in your head. [[That's not really an answer.]] [[Tell the butterfly your name.]] [[Refuse.]]

The darkness begins to enclose on you once again, the numbness reaching your face slowly as the butterfly grows more insistent. You refuse to tell it your name as it is your name and yours alone. No one else should know your name because that is what you deserve. This creature is untrustworthy, manipulative, pushy. The butterfly lingered for a few moments in silence before you turned and felt yourself slug off the path, pushing your body to move as far away from this temptress as possible. [[Look back over your shoulder.]] [[Continue through the trees.]]

Your gait picks up a bit as the weight from your legs is gradually lifted. With each passing step that you follow down the widening path, soft sounds of forest life begin to travel through to your ears. At first it was merely the simple rustle of tree leaves and then the soft whistle of the crisp air as it rushed through the crevices of the branches. Birds from afar gave off little songs which were answered back quite diligently. There were sights and smells and sounds and //life//. Why did you ever fear this before? The butterfly slowed and came to gradually rest on your shoulder as the path seemed to split into a [[fork]].

How frustrated you are becoming. The ambiguous answer gives you an annoying hum in the back of your mind, a pest of a thought that perhaps this was just another riddle or trick for your tongue. Perhaps it wished to steal your name and never give it back. A butterfly identity thief. Yes. "There is only truth." There was an elongated pause before the butterfly repeated itself with conviction. "Your name is?" [[Tell the butterfly your name.]] [[Refuse.]]

The small light seems to be getting fainter from the butterfly the further you retreat from it. It seems to be stuck on the path as it has ceased to follow you into this untrekked region of forest, where the fog is thick. Your legs are heavier than they ever were and your body slowly disappears amongst the shrubbery of the dark, looming forest. There is nothing. There is no one. You are lost.

You push through the branches and sludge through the thick forest mud which threatened to stop you in your tracks. There's not a thought in your mind that says to turn back, it's already much too late for that. Your legs are heavier than they ever were and your body slowly disappears amongst the shrubbery of the dark, looming forest. There is nothing. There is no one. You are lost.

The lingering sounds of water gradually swell, and you are now positive that there has to be some sort of lake or river nearby. The faint smell of dew and cherries wavers into your line of walking, followed by a part in the neverending twist and turns of trees shrubs. You stop short as a bright blue, crystal clear pond comes into view. It is as beautiful and inviting as you could have imagined, a small oasis in this otherwise moisture ridden forest. Your thirst urges you forward as you run to dip your hands gratefully into the cool liquid, not bothering to think that anything harmful could come from such a magnificent sight. As you sipped you take notice of your surroundings, noticing the [[beaver]] near the far end of the pond. He seems to be building a dam, but, why build a dam where one does not need to be built? You could go for a swim, but the possibility of being horribly wet is something to consider. In the far corner of your peripherals, you notice the color in the pond slowly fade to a dull grey. On a small patch of dirt on the barrier between water and forest, crouched a [[man]] in red.

You side step through towards the right of the path, your fingers grazing the vines which twisted and turned whimsically from tree to tree. They grow thicker with each trudge forward and gradually increase in height, choking out the tree branches. A charming shade of violet shutters against the pathway as you look up, watching the vines clasp tightly to one another like there were no forces strong enough to tear them apart. They formed a quaint canopy, sprouting flowers of gold and bronze across the upper sections. Tiny signs began to appear, wedged in between vines and the base of the trees. //Mushroom Village//, they read, each one growing increasingly larger and bolder in color. Ahead, you see a bit of light peeking through the tunnel of vines. Should you continue to the [[village]]? Or should you turn back to the [[fork]]?

The fork in the road had a //slight// ominous feel to it, as each of the subdivided paths that lead off of this one were both identical to one another, yet each lay on either side of you. To your left, you hear the faint trickle of water. It grows louder as you step closer towards that side of the fork, perhaps there is a [[pond]]. You peek towards the right side and find vines curving up and over the trees symbiotically, soft hues of pastel blue and purple flowing through them. Perhaps you should follow the [[vines]] instead. The butterfly seems content perched on your shoulder, as though it awaits for you to decide where to go from this moment on.

As you draw near, the beaver seems to spot you and perches itself on top of its dam. Well, somewhat of a dam. Pieces continuously slip off and he places them back on, like clockwork each and every time. It seems pointless to dam up an undam-able pond, but this beaver is persistent. He wears a blue bowtie which he readjusts every so often, wishing it to be properly maintained. When you are in earshot he gives you a toothy grin, beady eyes squinting before bringing forth a monocle. He adjusts it onto his right eye, leaning forward to see you better with. "My, my. Hello, child. You seem to be rather far from wherever you are going." He was a bit more plump than the beavers you had seen before, and each time his tail slapped the water it would ripple shades of green and gold. [[You are confused]]. [["Your bowtie..."]]

The water is chilled as you slip into it, but not enough to where it would bother you. You have no problems seeing beneath it, as though your eyes were merely small windows into another world of color and texture. Fish of all shapes and sizes swam cohesively as groups around you, littering the water with schools of life. You remain beneath the surface for a few moments, slowly turning onto your back and allowing the natural buoyancy of the human body to lift your body to the surface. As though copying your need for air, the fish leapt from the water, coming back down with a hard splash of orange and yellows, some pink thrown in for the smaller, lighter fish. You nearly miss the tadpoles swimming near your toes, their tiny, beady red eyes and black bodies looking quite off from the rest of the pond. Paying them no mind, you return up onto the steady land of [[The Pond]].

You approach the man with caution, his complexion dark and eyes even darker. The soles of your feet are slowly warping into shades of grey as you draw closer. An eerie feeling settles in your chest, the kind that you remember having when you first came to be in this forest. The man was transfixed on the ground, marking random letters and words which you could not make out in the dirt. He whispered to himself, gibberish really, and every so often he would use the edge of his shirt red, muddy sleeve to wipe the sweat from his brow. In his free hand, a small lighter was clutched tight. Every fourth symbol he wrote he would click the top open, and every sixth whisper he would flick it on. Silence would stricken the area as he watched the golden flames lick away at the air before shutting it and reliving the process all over again. [["Hello?"]] [["Are you ok?"]] [[Turn around. It's best you leave him be.]]

Confusion clearly settled on your features. Even though this should come as no surprise, there is just something too odd about this beaver and you are wary of its upbeat smile and the way it cleaned its small monocle against the fabric of the bowtie. "How rude of me. I just haven't seen one like yourself in quite some time. I am Doctor Beaver, would you fancy a swim in my pond?" [["Beaver I-"]]

Once more the beaver adjusts his monocle, silent as he tossed a small piece off wood with his foot. "It is quite fashionable, I'm told. Slimming, the woodchuck said." He proudly fluffed it with his paws, clearing his throat in a change-in-subject manner. "How rude of me. I just haven't seen one like yourself in quite some time. I am Doctor Beaver, would you fancy a swim in my pond?" [["Beaver I-"]]

"''Doctor'' Beaver." The beaver grew slightly irritated by you calling him simply beaver. You correct yourself out of politeness. "Why are you building a [[dam]] in the pond?" "I would love to go for a [[swim]]".

Doctor Beaver looked puzzled, as though you had offended him a little in his very //important// line of work. "Why, this pond will not be whole if I do not build this dam!" You are puzzled, somewhat wondering about the sanity of this beaver who now speaks with a thickened British accent. He squints, shuffling down to one end of the rickety dam, tossing pieces of wood away as he went. //Slap, slap, slap.// You watched as his tail slapped either side of the water, both rippling different, unique colors as the fish scattered. "If only I didn't have such splinter sized wood pieces! They're barely enough for a mouse!" Doctor Beaver began speak to himself, forgetting you are there for a few brief seconds before turning back around. "Well, go on now child, back to [[The Pond]]. Just be wary of the [[man in red]], he seems to be having a spat with himself today."

A blue pond lies in the center of a thick forest, an oasis amongst the shrubbery. Would you like to speak to [[Doctor Beaver]]? Or perhaps speak to the [[man in red]]? There's always more to be seen, with a [[swim]].

//Doctor// Beaver, with all his blue bowtie glory sits atop of his mess of a dam, which continually floats away from him. You approach him and he throws a splinter of wood at you, almost lecturingly. You catch one of the pieces of wood and slip it into your pocket for some odd reason. "Time is precious! There is nothing for you here, child. Have you spoken to the dormouse yet? Follow the [[vines]] and you will find her. Go as it is fated for you to continue on. The trees told me so." [[I have already visited the dormouse.]] To avoid being pelted by small slivers of wood, you return to [[The Pond]].

You greet the man, but he does not greet you back. [[Turn around. It's best you leave him be.]] [["What happened to you?"]] [["Are you ok?"]]

The man seems to quicken his routine as the flipping of the lighter clicks on and off every couple seconds, the whispers now turning to mumbles. It seems as though he has registered your voice, but it just makes him more compulsive, more focused on carving the symbols into the ground until his nails began to bleed from the pressure. [[Turn around. It's best you leave him be.]] [[Try to touch him.]]

He doesn't look like he's someone you want to bother. Perhaps it is best that you stick to the rest of [[The Pond]] anyways.

Again, silence. It is as though you do not exist to him. Like there is a barrier of darkness between your mind and his, and at this moment his mind was winning. [[Turn around. It's best you leave him be.]]

As you reach your hand down to soothe the man, his hand slams down against the ground and the lighter falls to the right of him. His gaze lifts to yours and you are immediately overwhelmed with fear and anxiety, a flood of regret and tiresome worries. He does not physically touch you, but the weight of his darkness captures and suffocates you, drawing you in without the possibility of retreat. His mumbles pick up again, but this time you understood what they were. Glazed over with a numbness, the butterfly slips away as you fall to the ground next to the man, whispering gibberish under your breath. The color seems to fade from your cheeks and the light from your eyes. There is nothing. There is no one. You are lost.

The darkness sets you off as you draw near this man in red. You better speak to the [[beaver]] beforehand.

Onward to the village! You are not entirely sure how trustworthy such a place in this world is, but the curiosity is overwhelming. As you draw closer to the light, small mushroom begin to increase in number and size. The faint smell of pine and musk hit your senses and you are forced to hold your breath for a few brief seconds. Whether you liked mushrooms or not, their numbers made the area quite strong in smell. The tunnel's opening was met with an abundance of mushrooms varying in color and size, some with spots and some without. No one mushroom was identical an they all seemed to converge upon a much larger blue one; upon further inspection you notice that there is a small door carved into it and little wisps of smoke rise from a miniscule chimney at the top. What an odd place. In the corner of your eye you spot the silhouette of a large wolf in between the trees. [[ Walk forward. ]] [[ Go closer to the wolf shadow. ]] [[ Knock on the blue mushroom's door. ]]

There's no need to disturb whoever was living there. You could just explore things yourself. Taking liberties, you pace a few steps forward. You are jolted and curl into yourself as a high pitched squeal catches you off guard. Lifting your foot, you are confused to see only a half squished mushroom beneath your foot. You could have sworn you had stepped on something by the horror of the squeal... Your thoughts are interrupted as a small pink mushroom next to the one you stepped on moved. It //moved//. It twisted and pulled itself out of the ground, tiny legs moving beneath it. [[ Kick it. ]] [[ Scream. ]] [[ Watch the baby shroom. ]]

This silhouette is set apart from the rest of the village, its dark tones blending into the shadows of the trees. If you hadn't been paying attention you may have missed it. As you draw closer the creature's eyes open, red pupils staring through the layers of trunks directly at you. It doesn't move, merely observes, as though it was surveying its prey from afar. Your hands grow clammy and your body begins to grow hot the closer you moved towards it. Fear. Your stomach churns. Perhaps it's best not to investigate further. You might want to [[ Knock on the blue mushroom's door. ]]

This blue mushroom is certainly larger than the others, but it is still small compared to your stature. You have to squat in order to give it a light knock with your fingers. //Knock , knock , knock.// Silence. Puzzled, you waited for a few moments. Was no one there? You have to [[ knock ]] a bit louder.

A momentary fear grips you and you kick the creepy shroom away, watching it land a few feet from you. It wriggles its feet in the air, unable to get up as it lets off another one of those high pitched squeals. In response, two more mushrooms wiggle out of the ground, followed by another five. As the numbers sprouting up and walking around grew, they seemed to all conjugate around the one who had fallen. A brief moment of silence as the connections seemed to go off in their tiny shroom-brains. Like an alarm they soon all began to squeal, one taking off in a panicked sprint around the meadowed area before the rest followed. There you are, surrounded by hundreds of screaming mushrooms with tiny legs that you clearly disturbed. [[ Apologize. ]] [[ Remain silent. ]]

Creepy. You let off a scream and it seems to startle the small mushroom. In response it lets off a high pitched squeal, using its small legs to dart around in a panicked state. Setting off a chain reaction, one after another of the tiny baby shrooms began to pop up out of the ground and follow the lead of the first, running around like chickens with their heads cut off. There you are, surrounded by hundreds of screaming mushrooms with tiny legs that you clearly disturbed. [[ Apologize. ]] [[ Remain silent. ]]

You are awe-struck by the unnatural walking shroom that you remain silent. The mushroom taps on the one you squished with its foot and paused for a moment, as though it was waiting for a response. When none came it took off in a sprint, squealing loudly like an alarm. Setting off a chain reaction, one after another of the tiny baby shrooms began to pop up out of the ground and follow the lead of the first, running around like chickens with their heads cut off. There you are, surrounded by hundreds of screaming mushrooms with tiny legs that you clearly disturbed. [[ Apologize. ]] [[ Remain silent. ]]

You try to apologize but to no avail, the small shrooms continue to run madly around you. Some crash right into your feet, only to kick you and run the opposite direction; their colors make you slightly dizzy. In the mess of it all a dormouse appears to slip from the largest blue mushroom, garbed in bread armor and a match sword. She twitched her nose and stood upright to strut angrily up to you. "What do 'yer thing 'yer doin' eh? Trompin' around like a blunderhead n' waking up all the wee ones?" Although you entirely dwarf her, the dormouse intimidates you. She's bold and fierce and fearless. You envy that. [[ Apologize again. ]]

What were you supposed to do? You contemplate turning back and retreating, but the fact that you felt like they would follow you out and disturb the entire forest kept you from doing so. In the mess of it all a dormouse appears to slip from the largest blue mushroom, garbed in bread armor and a match sword. She twitched her nose and stood upright to strut angrily up to you. "What do 'yer thing 'yer doin' eh? Trompin' around like a blunderhead n' waking up all the wee ones?" Although you entirely dwarf her, the dormouse intimidates you. She's bold and fierce and fearless. You envy that. [[ Apologize again. ]]

Once, twice, three more times you knocked on the door with a steadfast rhythm so that whoever may have been inside ''knew'' you weren't about to just go away. "SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH." The shushing started you as it continued far longer than it should have. As though you had just struck a nerve with whoever was saying it. In one swift movement the little door swung open and out came a small brown tinted dormouse, who walked entirely on two legs and seemed entirely too sassy with her hands on her hips, tapping her foot insistently. "Didn't 'yer mam ever teach you some of 'em manners? 'Yer gonna wake up all the wee ones at the rate you are goin'" The dormouse squeaked, readjusting the piece of bread armor she wore as a chest plate. As if it couldn't have been more strange, a match was slung loosely across her waist in a weapon-like fashion. [[ Apologize quietly. ]] [["Where am I?]]

There is nothing much you can say besides your apologies, in a soft tone. You weren't entirely sure of your own sanity at that point, as you were whispering in order not to disturb a patch of //mushrooms.// Mushrooms. Eyeing you suspiciously, the dormouse taps her foot. "Well? Why are yer 'here?" [["Who are you?"]] [["Where am I?]]

In your apologetic state the dormouse rolls her eyes and unsheaths the match with one hand. Standing in a combative pose she jabs the match in your direction, whiskers twitching wildly. "I 'otta just teach 'yer a lesson myself, but this 'ere mouse is a nice one. 'Yer sorry butt lucked out as I'm feelin' kind today." She places the match back around her waist and stomps her foot down, letting out an even higher pitched squeak than the rest of the mushrooms. It rang out in your ears and vibrated the drums inside, forcing you to cover them momentarily to [[ spare ]] them some pain.

To your surprise, all of the small panicked mushrooms were startled into stopping. With a firm hand the dormouse began to shoo the mushrooms back into their premade holes. You watch as a bioluminescent tint ran through each and every legged shroom as it plopped back into its hole. One by one they began to play follow the leader and return to the slumber which you had awoken them from. The smallest, shortest, and most pink of them all one ran to you, giving you a kick again before returning to rest. Dusting off her hands together, the dormouse looked back up at you. "So what is it 'er 'ere for?" [["Who are you?"]] [["Where am I?]] [["That match..."]]

"Already visited? Then continue on down the [[Pathway]] , you'll meet the daft crow trio I'm sure." The Doctor chuckled, shooing you off. "Go on, now."

The mouse's hand rested on her match-sword, steadily clearly her throat. "I am ''the'' dormouse, guardian n' protector of this 'ere village and de wee ones in it." [["That match..."]]

Small mouse paws rose up to clean her whiskers. "Why, this 'ere is Mushroom Village, cutest lil' village in this 'ere part of the woods." [["Who are you?"]] [["That match..."]]

You are curious and quite obviously asking about the dormouse's weapon (or so you assumed it was). What started out as a strong question though soon drifted as you realize there is nothing much to ask of it. "This?" The small rodent patted the match, clearly proud of it. "This 'ere is my prize from 'em dang crows. Always stealin' the wee ones n' causin' havoc. I found this right unda the fat one's foot, I did." [["What crows?"]] [["Where am I?]] [["Who are you?"]]

"What crows?" The repetition of the question catches you off guard, as though the rodent was taken aback by it. "Them three goons in the graveyard. Thick as planks they are. I wouldn't trust 'em with anything ya 'ear me?" The dormouse paused before waving her hand in the air. "Ye otta talk to the Doctor near the [[pond]], he's more pleasant than anyone else ye know." [[I have already spoken with the beaver.]]

The dormouse seemed to light up a bit and wiggled her finger at you lecturingly. "Then be gone with ye', tell 'em crows to kiss me' butt when ye' run into 'em." Leaving you to return to the [[Pathway]], the dormouse enters back into her mushroom abode.

The path met once again into the straight line and you wonder if it would ever curve or diverge from its original structure. Were there other paths? Did other individuals such as yourself having different shaped paths in their forests? Pushing onwards, the path began to thin in size and the colors overhead grew more deep orange and pink in hue. A few more minutes of walking and a cascade of maroon ivy leaves form a blanket over a small opening between the trees where another budding path led to. Do you travel [[through the ivy]]? Or do you continue [[straight]]?

The cascading ivy tickled your face and arms as you pushed past it, leaving the path which you walked rather dark in comparison the the previous budding paths. The caws of numerous crows pick up as you take a few more steps, a somewhat musky stench lingering at your nose. Nearly tripping over the overgrown roots that hovered above the paths, you find yourself face to face with a lonely, abandoned [[graveyard]].

The path grows narrower with each step and you become increasingly nervous that it may disappear altogether. In reassurance you look to the butterfly perched on your shoulder, who merely flutters its wings in response. The trees began to dwindle in number, the canopy opening up a bit to shed the light down against your face. Ahead, you see a short bridge with a large puke green troll directly in the center of it. What is on the other side of the bridge? [[Try to cross the bridge]]. [[Go back]].

The bridge is short but wide, carved with a sturdy oak wood that does not look to be from any sort of tree from this forest. Blue roses curve up and down the front pillars, wrapping around the underside of the overpass. The crevice beneath is deep but looks like you could possibly jump from one side to the other. A troll stood sturdy in the center of the bridge, its weight making the wood creak and groan. You are somewhat fearful that it may snap if you join in. [[Try to jump the crevice]]. [[Approach the troll]]. [[Go back]].

It seems you've made a mistake in coming here. The light disappeared from overhead as you travel back into the wooded forest. Before you lose your sense of direction, you decide to return back to the path to go [[through the ivy]] instead.

You believe it best not to try to cross the bridge or face the troll. Finding the narrowest part of the crevice you peered down, a darkness forming midway so that you cannot make out the bottom. Backing up, your adrenaline starts to pump and the numbness returns to your body. Will you make it? Will you fail? You second guess yourself momentarily. [[Try to cross the bridge]]. [[Go back]]. [[Jump.]]

You enter the bridge with a big of regret as it squeakkkkkked beneath your toes. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. You gulp and come within feet of the troll, who, to your surprise, lets out a hardy laugh. "It will always hold, no need to be frightened." As you got a closer look, a faint smell of peppermind came from the wide-eyed troll, his hair disheveled but his beard kept quite nicely groomed. Atop his head poked out a single violet rose. [["May I pass"]]? [[Go back]].

There's no turning back now. You take off in a sprint, legs pumping, heart thumping, mind focused on your goal ahead. You will make it. You will succeed. Leaping from the very edge of the crevice, you feel as though you are flying as your legs curve under you. They meet with the other side and for a brief moment you are filled with joy and happiness. But only in that single, brief, unmatched moment in time. The earth crumbles beneath your feet with a crack and you slip backwards, the butterfly unable to save you as you fall. You watch its light disappear as you tumble into the darkness, landing harshly against the ground beneath. Although you cannot move, there is no pain. Only the numbness in both your body and your mind. You can see nothing anymore and can only taste the dull coppery hint of blood as it gurgled from your mouth. And there you were, alone and a failure in the deep depths of the crevice which you have fallen into. A pool of bright red, thick blood pooled beneath your mangled body. The dark thoughts linger in your mind as life slipped from your grasp. There is nothing. There is no one. You are lost.

The rather jolly troll chuckled again, his deep voice rupturing louder laughter as though something was really, //really// funny. "Of course I cannot let you pass, I am the troll of this bridge, after all." You are puzzled and silent, perhaps even a bit frustrated that you came all this way and were not able to pass. The troll picked up on this and adjusted the rose on his head. "Though if you answer my riddle I may think about it." [["Riddle?"]] [[Go back]]. [["I don't have time for this."]]

"A riddle. A rhyme. A trick. A mindtease." You are uncertain, but you doubt that trying to force your way through would be any sort of method. You agree to hear the troll's riddle and he chortles a gleeful response, cheeks swelling with a thick amber blush. His hand comes up in a gesturing manner and you focus a bit //too// much. "Something lost that is lost will remain lost. Something found that is found will remain found. Something found that is lost will remain lost until it is found again." The troll paused. "So will something lost that is found by something found be found again? Or will the something lost make the something found lost as well until they are found by something found once again?" [["What?"]] [["Can't I have a different one?"]] [[Go back]], there's better things for you to do with your time.

The troll picked something from its teeth and waved its hand. "There's always time. What you don't have is patience, use your words correctly because they are taken literally." [["Riddle?"]] [[Go back]].

"Do I need to repeat myself once more?" [["Yes."]] [["No."]] [[Go back]].

The troll let off another gleeful laugh which shook the bridge and made you uneasy on your feet. "Of course not, there is only one riddle that matters to this bridge. If you are not ready for it [[Go back]] or I can repeat it if you'd like." [["Yes."]] You reply, it would help to hear it again. [["No."]]

"Something lost that is lost will remain lost. Something found that is found will remain found. Something found that is lost will remain lost until it is found again." The troll paused. "So will something lost that is found by something found be found again? Or will the something lost make the something found lost as well until they are found by something found once again?" [["That makes no sense."]]

Tears swell in the eyes of the bearded troll and his flower loses its vibrant shade a bit. "You are not worthy of crossing, I'm afraid. Please [[Go back]] and return when you are ready."

A whisper from the winds picked up and the petals of a dozen roses slipped off from the closest ones to you. Tears swell in the eyes of the bearded troll and his flower loses its vibrant shade a bit. "You are not worthy of crossing, I'm afraid. Please [[Go back]] and return when you are ready."

You observe the area, which seems more like an abandoned field more than anything. The weeds and grass were overgrown over the unmarked graves, some of which had fallen after years of abuse from the environment. One of the larger headstones was chipped at the top and three black crows sat atop it, eyeing you. The tallest one paced and caw'd, as though to give you a warning. At the very far edge of the graveyard, set apart from all of the rest of the gravestones and grass that was neatly trimmed twisted out a single thick branch from the forest beside it. Hanging from this branch was a small wooden tree swing, which rocked back and forth slightly from the wind. Do you check out the [[swing]]? Or do you approach the [[crows]]? Returning to the [[Pathway]] is also an option.

Deciding to check out the swing, you begin to head over to the nicely upkept piece of the graveyard. Did someone trim it? Or was it just naturally scarce of overgrowth just in this specific spot? The swing was old, worn down, and simple. You trail your fingers against the seat, finding it rough to the touch. Giving it a small push, you find yourself retreating back into yourself. Who does it belong to? It reminds you of childhood, innocence, carelessness. An odd sensation fills your mind as you swivel your head to the darkened forest around you, feeling as though someone or //something// was watching you. Approach the [[crows]]. Return to the [[Pathway]].

Three crows sit atop the lonely large gravestone, each similar yet different from the other. The leftmost one was small and thin with vibrant blue eyes, the right most fat with dull copper pupils. That must have been the one the dormouse spoke up. In the center of them both sat a particularly prideful and beautiful crow who cocked his head to stare at you. Around its neck a small golden key was tied. [["Can you speak?"]] [["The dormouse sent me..."]]

Silence. For a moment you believed that perhaps these were just dumb crows after all. Perhaps you were going crazy in assuming that animals could speak to you based on previous experiences. The crow front and center fluffed up his feathers, before letting out a loud caw. "WHAT?" It leaned in closer, as though attemtping to hear you. [["I said...nevermind.."]] [["The dormouse sent me..."]]

All three birds pick up on the fact that you seem frustrated and the smallest one leans over to whisper something to the center one so that he may hear. "The //dormouse// sent you? Are you her pet? You seem a bit big to be her pet..you're not a shroom...maybe I should taste you to see!!" It caw'd again. [["What is the swing for?"]] [["You cannot taste me"]].

"//THE SWING THE SWING NO NOT THE SWING-//" The smallest blue-eyed crow began to shout obsessively, nearly falling off of the gravestone. It looked as though it couldn't tell where it was going. The center crow swished its wing up to slap the smallest in the beak, making it lose its footing and nearly slip once again. "The swing is the swing. Just a swing, you see. It swings and swings and swings..and s...w..i..n..g..s..." You begin the grow uneasy as the birds talk in circles. As before, the fat one remains silent. Watching you like it was studying every corner of your features. [["Do you live here?"]] [["Stop staring at me."]]

You affirm that the crow may not taste you, and, like before, it leaned in and squinted its eyes. "WHAT??" A crow that was hard of hearing, glorious. Absolutely glorious. It caw'd twice more and you had to repeat yourself louder, in a yelling fashion for him to hear you. "But I bet you taste marvelous. Like the best plump apple that's just ready to fall. Reach towards the tree for itttttt-" The smallest one butts in. "APPLE. THE APPLE. REACH APPLE REACH." As before, the fat one remains silent. Watching you like it was studying every corner of your features. [["Do you live here?"]] [["Stop staring at me."]]

You, of course, yelled. Why you were bothering to talk to these looney crows was beyond you. The center one, whom you now assumed was the eldest of the three swiped his wings up into the air, flapping them momentarily. "We live everywhere, my brothers and I. In everything and everyone and all of life!!" [["Stop staring at me."]] [["What's the key for?"]]

It finally got to you. The dull ache in the back of your mind with the feeling like someone was watching, it had to be this fattened crow in all of his gluttonous glory. The fat one shifts only a little, but its eyes remain blankly staring into your soul. "This one? He is the quietest of us all and only stares. Hasn't said a peep since he was hatched. The funniest jokes he tells though, you should stick around for one." The smallest, of course, to follow up started cawing and laughing hysterically. The three were like a bad joke, acting more like a band of rabid hyenas. "He's probably just mad that your precious dormouse stole his nest!" [["Stole his nest?"]] [["What's the key for?"]]

"WHAT?" You forgot to raise your voice again. You repeated yourself in a higher tone and booming voice that sent the small one flying off the gravestone in response. "This key? This little thing?" He gestured to it around his neck, ruffling his feathers again proudly as he eyed you closer. "This is the key to my everythingness. You should find one for yourself." He placed his longest feather on the right wing against his beak, speaking in no more than a whisper. "I have stolen it from the //little girl// shhh." [["What little girl?"]]

The small one whispers to the eldest crow. "STOLE IT! Stole it right out from under his foot." You assume they speak of the match but you cannot be sure. "Stolen..stolen...stolen..thief.." The small one chimes in again. [["What's the key for?"]]

All three crows, well, two you should say, fell silent. They lowered their heads, casting doubt into your mind that any of it was real. You waited for them to respond, but they merely caw'd at you. Once. Twice. Three times. As though they had just warped back into normal crows. Puzzled, you back out to view the rest of the [[ Graveyard ]].

A looming darkness shrouds the area. Unmarked graves litter the overgrown meadow, thick with the smell of musk. Would you like to speak to the [[Crow brothers]]? Your gaze lingers towards the swing again expecting it to be empty. The skin on the back of your neck crawls and a lump forms thick in your throat. The creak of the swing seems to resonate throughout the graveyard as everything falls silent. Time ceased to pass. A silhouette of a young girl swings gently back and forth, her pigtails braided neatly down her back and two ruby red bows tied tightly at the bottom of them. She hums. It's soft at first, like the small inkling of a thought that lingered in your mind. As the seconds pass she grows louder, kicking her legs to swing higher. [[Move towards her.]]

You decide to return to the crows and they merely stare at you once more. "... ... ..." [["Why are you silent?"]] [["SAY SOMETHING!"]]

The palms on your hands grow cold with sweat as you approach the young girl, feeling the eyes of the forest on your back. This was a bad idea. But something urged you forward. When you were a few feet from her she giggled, a giggle so abrupt and high pitched that your heart thumped in your chest. She did not turn to you, and instead skipped over to an overgrown patch of weeds before disappearing in between it. Do you follow [[her]]? Or do you return to the [[ Graveyard ]] ?

"... ... ..." The smallest crow caw'd, but nothing more. Return to the [[ Graveyard ]] .

You push your way through the split in the shrubbery, branches yanking and pulling at your clothing. Where is she? A giggle erupts from afar and you began to walk in that direction, picking up your gait a bit as another one sounded off to your left. The more you ventured after her, the dimmer the butterfly's light on your shoulder became. Your throat was parched and your voice croaked as you attempted to call after her. Panic and urgency seemed to strip you of your sense of direction and logic. You are blindly chasing something that you cannot see, running on the mere hope to find her. Your legs quivered as they lost their balance and you stumble, unable to find your footing every so often. It was as though the ground was sinking beneath you. A soft red glow pierced itself through the line of tree trunks and you follow it, finding yourself in a small, dingy opening free of vegetation. A single large stump sat directly in the center of the opening, smoothly cut as though it just had been freshly cut down. [[Move towards the stump.]] [[Call for help.]]

You draw closer to the stump, feeling yourself grow increasingly suspicious. There was nothing like a tree stumped into existence. The vibrant wooden and green hints were still visible at the bottom of the trunk, clear signs that it had just been cut down. Your fingers graze against the top, tracing each ring to the center. A loud giggle and a tap on your shoulder catches you off guard and you stumble back over the stump, fear gripping you once again. The stench of decay was thick as you watched in horror, the small girl who now faced you and tipped her head ever so slightly to the left. Although she was merely a silhouette like the Man in red had been, her face was blank. Her eyes missing, her nose smoothed over. She hummed her soft song, a toothy grin overpowering the rest of her otherwise innocent features. [["What do you want from me?"]] [["Go away!"]]

You call for help, but the forest merely goes even more deathly silent. Only the soft steps of your feet echoed as they stepped against the dirt, toes first in your attempts to remain as silent as possible. You [[Move towards the stump.]]

Your voice trembles, your knees buckle. Nothing is right in your world or this one. This voice haunts you. The toothy grin remains as the little girl points to the butterfly, opening her hand as though waiting for you to hand it over. [[Give her the butterfly.]] [[Run.]] [[Fight back.]]

You scream, backing up on all fours and retreating back onto your feet. The skin beneath your eyes feels hot. You feel as though you are burning, the skin melting away from your very muscle and bone. Paranoia slips into the depths of your existence. [["What do you want from me?"]]

Defeated. Drained. Afraid. Your hand cups over the butterfly at your shoulder and you stare into the blank face of the girl's dark canvas. She has been nothing for quite some time, you realize. A nothing that consumes all. A nothing that cannot be triumphed over. Perhaps this way you will soothe her. Perhaps this way you will live. Do you want to live? You hand the little girl the butterfly and she tenderly lets it crawl along her hand. She crushes it smoothly and into nothing, the light completely fading from the [[area]]. Her small body contorted and grew, dark matter dripping from her features as her jagged teeth became raw with blood. This was a //creature// from your nitemares. It had haunted you before and plagued you with the thoughts of the damned. Why was it here?

A sudden rush of energy was surged through your body, every inch and fiber of your being telling you to run. Retreat. Get out. Your legs stumble a bit over themselves as you turn, sprinting towards where you had come before. The girl, or better yet, the //monster// screeched. [[Look back.]] [[Continue to run.]]

You are not about to give in without a fight. With a sudden surge of courage you lunge at the girl, screaming. She does not like that you are willing to put up a fight. Letting out a howl her neck snaps and her teeth expand as she lets out a blood curdling scream. It rings through your ears, your body, your soul. Knocking you back, you feel the sting of a thousand blades upon your arms and wrists. Bloodied hands slip up to grab ahold of you as you struggle, weakening as though this beast were draining the life straight from you. Blood. So much blood. It surrounded you, drowned you. The creature brings squeezes you tighter and blood pours from deep cuts in your arms, leaving you limp and helpless. With one last omnipresent giggle, the beast opened its mouth and swallowed you, shoving every inch of your being inside the depths of its mouth. Silence. The darkness consumed you as you lay in the belly of this beast who haunted you. What was the point? There is nothing. There is no one. You are lost.

Thousands of shadows light up the darkness with their beady red eyes, staring at you through the barrier of the trees. The creature before you laughs, skin and raw flesh dripping from its boney interior as it rose one hand and points it directly to you. "//Run.//" It's voice was blood curdling and intersected every other thought in your mind. Your eyes darted wildly from one section to another, looking for any possible opening. Red. Black. Red. Black. All other colors faded from the area as you pushed off in one direction, eyes closed. You didn't know where you were running to or for how long, but all you could do was [[run]].

You look back over your shoulder, a mistake no doubt. There was no girl or even the remnants of one. In her place stood a towering dripping black figure with bloody red sharpened teeth that remained permanently visible. The creature's hand outstretched for you and catches your leg, yanking you through the dirt back towards it. It cackled and howled, gurgled. You swore you had seen it in a nitemare before, but this was //real//. It was right here. In front of you. And it was massive. You scream but no sound dared to leave your lips as the shadows slipped upwards, grabbing ahold of the butterfly and suffocated it in the darkness. All hints of light left the area, sending dark thoughts plummeting through your [[mind]].

There is no stopping you. You run as fast as you can, but not fast enough. The weight of the grimey mud created swamps around your feet and you trip. Your body lands with a hard thud against the cold ground. You look back over your shoulder, a mistake no doubt. There was no girl or even the remnants of one. In her place stood a towering dripping black figure with bloody red sharpened teeth that remained permanently visible. The creature's hand outstretched for you and catches your leg, yanking you through the dirt back towards it. It cackled and howled, gurgled. You swore you had seen it in a nitemare before, but this was //real//. It was right here. In front of you. And it was massive. You scream but no sound dared to leave your lips as the shadows slipped upwards, grabbing ahold of the butterfly and suffocated it in the darkness. All hints of light left the area, sending dark thoughts plummeting through your [[mind]].

You run until your legs began to slow and body became increasingly numb to the ground itself. Finally opening your eyes you find you have come to the graveyard once again, but nothing is as it seems. The ground was oozing remnants of bones and animal carcasses; the stench alone was enough to nearly knock you from your feet. Your vision was impaired as the thickness of the fog had increased, but as you trudged through the mud you can spot three small [[gravestones]], which had not been there previously. All is silent and the crows are nowhere to be seen.

You approach the unmarked graves with caution, holding your stomach as another wave of death scent overwhelmed you. Small mounds formed beneath the headstones, as though whoever was buried there had been recently so. Beside the center one lay a golden key, nearly buried under the earth. Will you [[take the key?]] Or do you [[leave it]]?

You find enough time to grab the key and tie it around your grey-toned neck. You needed to find somewhere safe to hide. But where? Should you visit the [[Dormouse]]? Or should you warn [[The Doctor]]?

You decided you didn't have time to take the key. A decision which you would regret for the end of time, for it is without a doubt that the creature would come to collect it moments after you are gone. You will forever be forced to wander the dark depths of the forest; No path, no door, no escape. You will run until your legs give out on you and will inevitably become prey to the beast of this forest. There is nothing. There is no one. You are lost.

The dormouse! She would know what to do. You found yourself back at the twisting vines, which had now lost their color and instead formed jutting thorns which stabbed, poked, and prodded at your skin. In desperation you tear through them, helplessness slowly leaking into your mind as darkness once again makes the forest more dark with each passing minute. Your tears of bliss stream down your face as you spot the end of the tunnel, but such bliss was turned into horror. Before you lay not a village, but a murder scene. Not one mushroom was in tact as pieces littered the ground, tiny legs plucked from their undersides and squashed carelessly. They looked as though they had tried to flee. The smallest one, whose color had now drained into a light grey, lay only inches from your feet. The dormouse's cottage was damp with blood and a broken match lay beside it. From afar, you spot the red-eyed wolf, who howled and snarled at you. [[Grab the match.]] [[Pick up the smallest mushroom.]]

If anyone knew how to solve your problem or knew where to hide, it would be Doctor Beaver. Your gait slowed into a trot from exhaustion, your eyes drooping as they dared to close. You must find the doctor. Coming to the pond, your horror weighs thick in your mind as the once blue water was now stained a swampy black, thick like tar. Floating chunks of wood lie dormant, scattered througout the water. You can see the [[ Beaver ]] atop one of them. The pond is littered with lily pads and every so often a large black toad would jump onto one, with small beady eyes. One came up with a fish in its mouth, which it swallowed whole. Swiveling your gaze you find the man in red missing, but the shiny remnants of his [[lighter]] lay where he last was.

The wolf charges, red liquid oozing from its dark muzzle. You lunge for the match, grabbing the two pieces. A lump once again forms in your throat as the stench of the blood remains prominent in your mind. Who could do such a thing? Such life, such beauty. Gone. The careless slaughter of a hundred young hopes, dreams, aspirations. Even the bravest of them all, taken down in the presence of the darkness looming in your forest. //Its// forest. //Its// darkness. //It// destroyed them all. Find [[The Doctor]] if you do not have both the [[match and the lighter]].

The wolf lunges, but your eyes linger back down to the smallest, most fragile and innocent mushroom of them all. Falling to your knees, the gravity seems to keep your legs beneath you without the hope of reaching your fet again. You scoop it up with your hands, gently running your thumb against its broken top. There was nothing left. Nothing left but the tears which streamed down your face, and the emptiness of the village which was forcefully voided of life. What was the point in going on if you could not safe this one, small mushroom? What sort of existence did you lead? Dark thoughts ran through your mind as the wolf approached you, belly still starved. There is nothing. There is no one. You are lost.

Your pacing slows as you start down the path, alone, as you had when you arrived at this forest. The pathway narrowed into merely nothing as you dragged your feet, every so often needing to physically pull them with your arms. Every fiber of your being wanted to give up, to lie down and sleep, but something willed you on. Even as the darkness and the branches began to curve inwards towards you, you walked. Past the pond and the village and the graveyard, you dragged yourself all the way to the bridge. It was empty now. No troll, no nothing. Just an empty bridge and dead, grey flowers that twisted around it. [[Continue on.]]

Hopelessness begins to set in as you reach down to retreive the man in red's lighter, an aching feeling making your entire body tremble. Not even brilliance could save a soul from its darkness. It stripped him of it. Find the [[Dormouse]] if you do not have both the [[match and the lighter]].

You call out to the beaver, forgetting that your voice does not project itself. Only a buzzing ambience fills your ears and you decide to step closer. Doctor Beaver turns, but you nearly stumble back from the sight. The same beady red eyes now replace his previous color, teeth sharp like razors and fur black and matted from the tar. When it sees you it merely bares its teeth, chattering them. [["Doctor Beaver...it's me..."]] [["Wake up!"]]

"... ... ..." Silence. [["Wake up!"]]

"... ... ..." Silence. Maybe you should go retreive the [[lighter]].

The path gradually began to disappear. Grain after grain. You weren't entirely sure if you were even walking in a direction now, you just...walked. Your dull, lifeless eyes fell upon a free standing wooden door in the center of a forest opening. No logic stood to challenge this in your mind as all you wanted to do was move forward. The door was in your way, as everything else. A door to where? A door to what? A trap? A trick? [[Try to use the key]]. [[Use the lighter and match]].

You try to use the key, but there is no keyhole on this door. Just twisting vines that blocked any hopes of entering. [[Use the lighter and match]].

The vines clenching ahold of the door held it tightly shut, and you weakly pull out the match and the lighter. Do you shield it from the wind as you [[light]] it? Or do you light it [[forcefully]]?

Your hand drifts above the match to shield it, using the other hand to both light and hold the match itself. Once. Twice. Three times you click the lighter until the flame rose up. You light the match and slowly begin to take it towards the door. In a clumsy demeanor the match slips from your grasp and plummets to the ground, snuffing out in the mud below. You click the lighter again and again, finding that it has ceased to work again. You fall to your knees, defeated, hands gripping at the door as all hope fades from your existence. The sounds of the creature's gurgles can be heard behind you. There is nothing. There is no one. You are lost.

Not wanting the match to go out, you decide that you will light it harshly, quickly, and with a force that will surely send it ablaze. Once. Twice. Three times you click the lighter until the flame licks at the air. Your hands tremble as you light the small match, bringing it to the vines. The thumps and thuds of the creature vibrate through the ground and you watch, in desperation, as the fire slowly burnt through the vines. [[Open the door.]]

You push open the door and a cascade of complete black meets you. The very beginning of stairs can be seen leading downwards and you step down, following them. The deeper you stepped, the more numb your body became. A putrid odor lingered as boney hands reached out to grab at you. [[Continue down.]] [[Turn back]].

You push through the arms, eyes watering from the putrid, horrid smell that was worse than death itself. The further you ventured down, the increasingly emotionless you became. The thoughts. The thoughts were the worst. They ran rampant in your mind. Even as your body felt no pain your mind wrecked havoc. This world's darkness had corrupted you. No. Not this world. //Your// world. //Your// forest. //Your// darkness. [[ You ]] destroyed them all.

You are frightened. You turn back towards the door but it slams in your face. [[Continue down.]]

You feel nothing, hear nothing, taste nothing. The thoughts now dwindle as you lose your footing and fall. Fall. Fall. You fall until there is nothing left to fall to. Only [[darkness]] and the numbness that encases your body keeps you company.

You were sick. They said it would be like falling asleep and when you woke up it would be better. But you have awoken and nothing has changed. You imagined waking up as no utopia, but... //This//. //What happened?// A small wooden box lay beside you with some light cascading dimly through its cracks. A keyhole is prominent on the outside. [[Open it.]] [[Leave it closed.]]

The black key still dangled from your neck and you weakly rip it from your neck, gripping the base of it with shaky hands. For a moment you second guess your choice. You [[Leave it closed.]] You [[Unlock it.]]

You do not deserve the light inside, you only corrupt, torture, and abuse it. Everthing you touch turns to darkness and rampages within the very depths of yourself. You'd rather sit here. In the darkness. Where there is nothing. And there is no one. And you are lost.

No. You want it to be free. No light deserves to be trapped in a box forever, no matter how deep the darkness goes. You fumble with the box and connect the key to the keyhole, turning it slowly until it clicked open. Gently you slip it open, finding yourself for loss of thought as the small white butterfly fluttered out. It did not speak to you as it lingered above you for a few seconds before pumping its wings strongly upwards. Although this entire world was encased in darkness, you subconsciously knew that it would find its way out. Even in the darkest, most hopeless situations. The butterfly would fly and escape and be //free//. It would be //free//. Freedom, love, honesty, tranquility, trust, intelligence, boldness, happiness. It would see all of these things and be free of the darkness which gripped those like you. You wanted to be a [[butterfly]].

In that moment the silence gripped your thoughts as your body shattered, a million butterflies forming from the remnant pieces of your soul. All different shapes, sizes, colors, patterns; they followed the white butterfly upwards like a sea of life crashing through all that was. It was in this moment that you felt truly //free//. Free of the darkness, free from confinement, free from the worries of your own mind. It was a bliss that did not subside. It was the innocence and the hope and the laughter that you had so desired. In was in this moment you realized that you are everything. You are infinite. You are found.