( she wants to pretend that she doesn't feel afraid; that she doesn't want to pick up her footsteps into a run; the first few days here were so easy, almost perfect — alive, well, normal, even with the sting of being helpless again — so maybe it was inevitable that she'd get carried away, go exploring recklessly, but there's time to beat herself up for being an idiot later, when she's out of the woods!

the frustration, the feeling of being watched and laughed at, the fear of being lost and trapped in a maze, it all prickles at her skin, and when she hears a sudden approach, footsteps crackling on leaves and branches, she whirls around just about ready to fight, suddenly painfully aware that she's fourteen and no longer has weapons. but she can raise a front, and her voice, to demand with a good stab at aggression: ) Who's there! Show yourself!

( sayaka curls in on herself, her arms clenched tight around her thighs, her forehead pushed into her knees, as if if she presses herself hard enough, it'll go away. it hurts. she's felt worse, but it hurts, and she doesn't want it to, doesn't want her fingers to feel pinched and hard, her head to pound, her bones to shift and change. why? why does this have to happen again? why?

a sudden sound — someone coming? — causes her to flinch, pull herself if anything even tighter, her muscles protesting the tension. ) I'm fine, it's nothing. ( her voice is hoarse with the effort the lie. ) I'm fine, go away.