Deepwood Weald I'll unwrap my fingers, free my foot and run away

more alarm bells flashed, and she swallowed thickly. "does a man named Elwood live there?" maybe he'd died in the meantime. gods, she was terrible. still, another obstacle, another variable, and yet she couldn't turn back. maybe he'd forgotten. or had a change of heart. 

"I'm glad too." she wasn't sure why she said it, exactly, it was more than just an empty echo of what the woman had said. "I mean, not glad for falling in a hole. but you're-" you're what, exactly? nice? in possession of a nice face? what did the woman mean by that, anyway? damn.