Her breath pounded within her chest, the oxygen burning with each gasp of the chilly night air. A thick, misty mass of fog encircled her ankles and obscured her view of the path, making each step treacherous. The overhang of limbs and leaves broke the moon's glow into a thousand tiny shards of light, but the young woman ignored that and thrust one foot in front of the other as fast as she could until she reached a rise in the ground. This unexpected change in terrain, coupled with the slippery sod beneath her feet, as well as the awful shoes she wore, caused her to twist her ankle and fall down in a heap. Upon impact with the ground, her shoulder collided with something hard hidden in the fog and stars exploded behind her tightly closed lids when her head bounced off the hard object. Delirious, yet still dimly aware of some terror which closed in on her, she struggled to get to her feet, but the instant she put weight on that twisted foot her ankle screamed in white hot agony and she again went down.
Panting heavily and gasping for air, the edges of her vision began to swirl with bright colors while her view closed to a pinpoint. She knew she had to ease her breathing but the panic made her gulp for air all the more and she became dizzy. She angrily grimaced and reached down to rip off her shoes, vowing to never again be burdened by such atrocious footwear.
Her will was strong, and she forced her breathing into some semblance of normality, then got to her hands and knees. Her elbows wobbled, but her head cleared and she remembered the wolves. She had to get upright somehow or those carnivorous demons would catch her and tear her to shreds. She braced for one final push to her feet but found herself looking directly at an old gravestone. There was a splash of bright red along one edge, blood, and the woman unconsciously touched her head where she had driven it into the stone. She pulled away with sticky blood coating her fingertips and internally said, "Ah, I see."