Close your eyes.
Imagine your are yourself, only very young, and you have gone too far into the woods alone. The air smells like cinnamon and peat and something black, like death. Imagine the cold licking at your skin, causing it to rise up pebbly and chill beneath your clothes. Breathe. Imagine a root hooked above the earth like a gnarled finger. You trip and tear your sleeve. The place you have hurt yourself glows red and there is a bright stream weaving down your arm. Feel the pulse rushing through your body. Breathe. Taste iron heavy on your tongue. Now you are crying. Now you are truly alone. Wind whistles through the branches. You begin to hear footsteps behind you. Breathe. Again. How small can you make yourself? Will you fit into a monster's mouth?
