She stepped forward, wincing at the cold mud oozing between her toes, at the unforgiving gravel jabbing into her soles like the certainty jabbering in her soul there was something she was supposed to be doing. Something definite. Something important. Something she had to do.
She couldn’t see.
There were so many trees, twisted, skeletal branches pointing this way and that, brittle and unbending, snagging in her hair, swiping at her face insisting she pay attention to this one. No, that one. No, the other one.
But she knew there was no use in asking, no point in consulting friends, runes or oracles. No one knew the way. All she could do was take one faltering and stumbling step at a time, over and over, tripping and fumbling step by step from a misinterpretable past into an uncertain future.
She stepped forward.