A flock of lorikeets fled screaming to the skies as the creek cried over the rocks in the night-time. The white moon shone brightly when Tilly’s voice broke the forest’s silence.
“You followed me,” I said.
“I want to help you, Myko.”
I threw up my hands. “I don’t need your help. You shouldn’t have come here.”
“It looks to me like you need my help, you’re lost.”
“I’m not lost.” Raindrops fell, driving tiny pin-pricks in my flesh. The air was sharp and cold. A hollow cry was building inside me.
“Myko, please let me help you.” When Tilly spoke my pulse started thumping. I turned and ran into the dark woods.
The forest rang with hoots and calls and Tilly’s cries, as I trampled over cone bushes and sweet-scented buttercups.
“Come back, Myko.”
I ran on, nearly crushing a blue-tongued sk
