43 A whoosh of motion stirred the hairs at my crown. A heavy thud hit the ground right behind me. Fingers grabbed my shoulders, and my body spun. Scenery blurred. My back hit something solid, head cracking back with enough force to spark lights into my vision. Before my body could even begin its downward slide, a crawling sensation raced over my wrists, scurrying along my forearms, like an army of ants homing in for the win. Legs kicking at air, I whipped my head to the side in search of the bugs. Not bugs. Oh, God! Definitely not bugs. Meshy vines protecting the trunk had begun a rapid creep over my upper limbs, and the tickling across my abdomen told me they invaded there, too. A long, low growl rumbled from the surrounding denseness through smog that performed like the mud of

