house, the barn, the small cornfield. How could she have gotten lost?How? It had only been half a minute in the forest...only a few steps in the Old Wood.
Even the trees were changing. Where she had been, near the road, most of the trees had been hickory or tulip. Now she was in a thicket of white oaks and red oaks...and conifers.
Old oaks...and on the ground, needles and leaves that muffled her foot-hops into soundlessness.
Soundlessness...but she needed help!
"Mrs. Dunstan! Mr. Dunstan! Kristin! Jake!" She threw the names out into a world that was doing its best to muffle her voice. In fact, in the darkness she could discern a certain swirling wispy grayness that seemed to be - yes - it was fog.
"Mrs. Dunstaa - a-aan! Mr. Dunstaa-aa-an! Kriiiissstiiiinnn! Jaaa-aaake!"
She needed shelter; she needed help. Everything hurt, most of all her left leg and right shoulder. She could just imagine what a sight she would make: covered in mud and leaves from falling every few feet, her hair in a wild mop from being caught on trees, blood everywhere....
One good thing: she certainly didn't look like Elena Gilbert. Elena Gilbert had long silky hair that was always perfectly coifed or charminglydishabille . Elena Gilbert set the fashions in Fell's Church and would never be seen wearing a torn camisole and jeans covered with mud. Whoever they thought this forlorn stranger was, they wouldn't think she was Elena.
But the forlorn stranger was feeling a sudden qualm. She'd walked through woods all her life and never had her hair caught once. Oh, of course she had been able to see then, but she didn't remember having to step out of her way often to avoid it.
Now, it was as if the trees were deliberately reaching down to catch and snag her hair. She had to hold her body clumsily still and try to whip her head away in the worst cases - she couldn't manage to stay upright and get the tendril torn out as well.
But painful as the tearing at her hair was, nothing scared her like the grabbing at her legs.
Elena had grown up playing in this forest, and there had always been plenty of room to walk without hurting herself. But now...things were reaching out, fibrous tendrils were grabbing at her ankle just where it hurt most. And then it was agony to try to rip with her fingers at these thick, sap-coated, stinging roots.
I'm frightened, she thought, putting into words at last what all her feelings had been since she stepped into the darkness of the Old Wood. She was damp with dew and sweat, her hair was as wet as if she'd been standing in the rain. It was so dark! And now her imagination began to work, and unlike most people's imaginations it had genuine, solid information to workwith . A vampire's hand seemed to tangle in her hair. After an endless time of agony in her ankle and her shoulder, she had twisted the "hand" out of her hair - to find another curling stalk.
All right. She would ignore the pain and get her bearings here, here where there was a remarkable tree, a massive white pine that had a huge hole in its center, big enough for Bonnie to get into. She would put that flat at her back and then walk straight west - she couldn't see stars because of the cloud cover, but shefelt that west was to her left. If she were correct, it would bring her to the road. If she were wrong and it was north, it would take her to the Dunstans'. If it were south, it would eventually take her to another curve of the road. If it were east...well, it would be a long walk, but it would eventually take her to the creek.
But first she would gather all her Power, all the Power she'd been unconsciously using to dull the pain and give her strength - she would gather it and light up this place so she could see if the road was visible - or, better, a house - from where she stood. It was only a human's power but, again, the knowledge of how to use it made all the difference, she thought. She gathered the Power in one tight white ball and then loosed it, twisting to look around before it dissipated.
Trees. Trees. Trees.
Oaks and hickories, white pine and beech. No high ground to get to. In every direction, nothing but trees,