2. the terror

Then she saw it, the source of her terror, it flashed past her; a blur of brown fur then gone. It dissipated into the breeze, forming again closer this time, much closer, now it disintegrated. She couldn’t see it but she knows it's back; It was hunting her. It's a predator stalking its prey with ruthless efficiency.

She started to run the ground spongy and soft beneath her feet. The decaying leaves, from last year, slip and crumble and give way beneath the pounding pressure of her feet. The world rushes past; a blur that cannot be discerned by her eyes. Panic speeds her heart up, she can hear it thumping in her chest. Its unsteady rhythm matches her rapid breathing as she searches for an escape.

The world around her slows, she can’t run any further. Her panic crystallises into a serene understanding and acceptance. She was going to die.

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