The rustle came again, this time from a great White Oak behind her. Emmeline stopped and turned. Her eyes tracked carefully up the massive trunk then roamed all over the limbs, searching through the leaves for a glimpse of whatever had made the noise. She could see nothing. She resumed her course at a brisk pace, carefully plotting her direction, concentrating on the task at hand. All distractions banished. When she heard something large land lightly on the grassy floor of the wood directly behind her, she broke into a run.
There was no panic in Emmeline. Tired, frustrated, and angry, yes. Panicked, no. Direction ceased to be important. All she wanted was to get away from meddling gods and escape from this wood. Emmeline pushed herself hard with an energy she did not know she had, sideste
