Haunted Wood I don't want your crowd

empty, dead eyes. the warmth of her mother's pelt, the breaths that didn't match her dead gaze, the two words she'd whispered, over and over and over and over and—

the girl startles awake, breath rapid and eyes wide, propelling herself out of the den she'd scratched out for herself. "scylla!" she calls, instinctively, then bites her tongue as she clamps her jaws shut. her vision is blurred, and it takes a second for her to realize it's because of her unshed tears. tensing, she screws her eyes shut, blinking quickly and forcing her expression in something fierce. 

there is no going back to sleep, not anymore; it's late afternoon, anyways. rising, hoping to outpace the dreams and her own mistake, she makes for the center of the territory, finding some familiarity in the darker forest there.