Amora's eyes shot open as she rolled over in surprise.

“I’m… not dead?”

Well, not that she was complaining.

She smiled weakly as she brushed snow off her lap. Amora could still taste the red fruit and her mouth was swollen. But she was alive.

She looked up as sunlight twinkled through the canopy, softly illuminating her surroundings. An unbroken sheet of white covered the ground around her.

Everything must have snowed in the night.

“But this much snow?”

She wondered how she didn’t notice before.

Oh right.

Amora remembered the ants, that blistering pain in her arm. And the thumping. She shuddered, casting the memory aside and looked down. She could see the bite marks clearly now and the surrounding skin looked raised, red and inflamed. She poked at one of the swollen bumps and pain flared instantly.

“Son of a- ”

Amora sneezed loudly, cutting herself off.

Great.

So now she was sick.

She rubbed her nose on her sleeve and nodded. Sick, hurt, hungry and cold. She looked down. At least pain was good right? That meant she was definitely alive.

“So, what now?”

Amora’s head was ringing. She looked back the way she came- or thought she came. She had no idea where she was. She’d run so far in the night it was impossible to tell which direction the field of grass was.

She felt her legs creak as she straightened them. Her knees wobbled as she got up slowly, begrudgingly shuffling forward at her command.

The first step was probably to get warmer.

Amora marched onward, laboriously trudging through the snow, each step awkward and slow. She’d gotten used to the silence of the forest by now. No longer was it eerie or sinister but strangely calming. A relaxing quiet.

Amora chuckled softly. A relaxing quiet? Was she going mad?

“I guess that's what almost dying does to you”

She cast her gaze downward as she walked. Taking in the muted sound of snow flattening under her and the otherwise completely silent setting.

She paused.

Or not completely silent?

Amora closed her eyes and heard a soft, trickling sound.

Her eyes shot open and she began to run, excitedly flinging snow behind her as she moved.

“Water!”

Just the word itself filled her body with relief. She ran past the wall of trees with sound as her guide and found it.

A stream. She stared at the body of water. This elixir of life. The soft sound of rushing water-

Divine.

Amora ran to the water’s edge eagerly, hands cupped religiously as cool water flowed into her mouth. She gulped it down, and felt her stomach fill up.

Bliss.

Her body felt lighter now and her head had stopped ringing. She lifted her face and looked across the water, wondering if she should wash her clothes. They were filthy. Stained with a fatal combination of blood, mud and poison fruit juice. Amora wondered how quickly her clothes would dry. She cupped her hands again and splashed water onto her face.

She peered deeper into the clearwater as something caught the light.

Many somethings.

Amora yanked her hands back as silver bodies swam toward her, cautiously watching them from the safety of the riverbank. Fish. They looked no larger than her handspan. Short, finless oval-shaped bodies with a broad tail at one end and a large jaw, twice the size of its head, at the other.

“And teeth. Why does everything in this forest have teeth?!”

She threw up her hands, kicking a nearby rock into the stream. Most of the fish scattered at the impact, but some stayed, swimming near the surface. Watching her.

Amora could see their rows of thin needle- like teeth from here. They looked like slow swimmers however. She doubted they could travel very fast with only a tail. Nothing really to be afraid of. Not like they could jump out of the water anyway.

She walked along the riverbank. Small dark rocks lined the stream, she stepped around them, staring at her shoes absentmindedly as she walked, until one caught her eye.

She bent, sweeping snow away with her foot and picked up a rock.

“A sharp rock.”

Maybe it could be useful?

She slipped it into her pocket- or tried to.

No pocket?

Something about that statement filled her with a deep irrepressible fury as she stomped down the bank. Face clouded and rock tight in hand. What kind of pants didn’t have pockets?

She wandered, for a while longer, until she had an idea, face brightening almost instantly. A magic word caught on her tongue. One that even no pockets couldn’t ruin.

“Breakfast.”

Amora walked over to a nearby tree and wrenched off one of the low hanging branches. She stared at it, and pulled another off for good measure, setting both down in front of her. She inspected her haul. 2 Large sticks, one bent and one straight.

Time to get to work.

She took the sharp stone and began chipping away at the ends of the sticks, whittling them into a single point. It was hard. The sticks were especially brittle in the cold weather, so it took her the better part of an hour, but she did it. She managed to fashion herself two makeshift spears.

Amora smiled hugely, holding them up proudly, before hopping back over to the stream.

Armed and dangerous.

Amora stared out at the swarm of fish, spear tight in her hand. She watched as they swam about, oblivious to the danger that hung over them. She waited until a group of them stilled and lifted her spear. With a quick release she swung her arm and watched the spear arc down into the water. The fish scattered, spreading out even before the spear landed- which missed completely, as it simply drifted down the stream. She frowned. Well that was anticlimactic.

“I don't know what I expected there but that definitely wasn't it”

Amora decided throwing her last spear was definitely not a good idea.

She stepped forward onto the very edge of the bank and tried a different tactic.

Though, even her new approach proved to be unsuccessful.

After an hour of fruitless stabbing, Amora fell back, with a single unbroken sigh. They were too quick and seemed to curve around her spear every time she got close. How were they so fast with just a single tail?

She sighed once more, deciding to try again later.

Amora was hungry. There was no doubt about that. She’d barely eaten anything yesterday. But some part of her was glad. Glad her spearing endeavours were unsuccessful. Glad she wasn't staring at some poor dying fish convulsing at the end of her spear. Because she didn't think she could do it.

To kill something.

Amora wondered if her past self would've been able to do. The person she was before. The person she was with all her memories. Was she strong? Brave? Kind? Amora stared out at her reflection in the river.

Was that her?

Dark brown unkempt hair and brown eyes.

She pulled her face closer, smiling experimentally.

Nice smile.

So this is what she looked like.

A stranger.

She let her gaze wander past the surface of the water. Past her reflection.

This Amora was empty. An incomplete version of herself. Was she even real?

She had nothing, no goals or aspirations, no home, no friends, no family. Nothing. Nothing to build on- to stand on.

A blank page.

Amora bit her lip and fought back tears. Why was she even thinking about this? What good does it do?

She pushed her thoughts back defiantly. So she didn’t have any memories? So what?

Maybe she’s not the real Amora. But-

“That also means I haven’t made any of her mistakes yet either. I haven’t done anything to regret. Maybe that means I’m pure.”

Pure? A pure version of herself. Like a baby.

Did that make sense?

Not really.

But it was enough. Enough for her. And enough for now.

She smiled. A fake smile. From an incomplete person.

But still a smile.

Call it self delusion or self- deception or whatever. It’s all her choice. Who she becomes now. It’s all her choice. She is in control.

Amora took a deep breath and stood up, brushing dirt off her pants before turning. Leaving her reflection behind. She walked toward a nearby tree, deciding on postponing breakfast. Binging on air and water instead.

She put it out of her mind. Her focus had to be on the future. And for now, she felt full. Not the kind of full that delighted the stomach. No. A different type.

Basically she just really needed to pee.

Amora thought about doing it in the open. Sure it would’ve been faster. But that felt wrong. So instead she made a beeline to the nearest bush. Safe under the cover of leaves. She paused for a second.

“Who am I even hiding from anyway”

She was probably the only person in this forest. She said that- but she did feel better tucking further behind the foliage. She looked back at the stream. At silver bodies that floated near the surface.

“Those fish I guess”

She frowned as she said that. Still-they did have beady eyes.

Moments later Amora emerged, walking back toward the stream, face bright and completely refreshed.

She looked at the fish as they floated near the surface and watched them blow bubbles at her tauntingly.

Amora sighed and decided she would try again later. You know? If she was reeeeally hungry. She shook a hand angrily in their direction as they blew more bubbles. She’d get those fish.

Amora caught herself after a second, face red, looking around bashfully. That was embarrassing- but who was here to see it anyway?

She walked away from the stream, delving into the forest once again. Amora didn’t know what exactly she was trying to find- or if it was even smart to wander around, but she trekked onward anyway. Armed with a big stick and a rock.

“Exploration time”

---

The stick came in handy.

Well, as handy as a stick could be. Amora waved it in front of her as she ducked under a bough, collecting spider webs and anything else that laid out of sight. It sped up the navigation process considerably. Instead of stepping cautiously, eyes peeled for anything in front, she simply waved the stick. And she could also use it to check safe footing under the snow. Amora smiled, tapping at the path ahead.

“My all-purpose stick”

She didn’t know how long she’d been walking for. But it had been in a straight line, so she knew how to get back to the stream if she needed more water. Amora paused, stabbing the sharp end of her rock into a nearby tree. She'd also been getting into the habit of marking her path too.

“No harm in making doubly sure”

Amora wasn't going to make the same mistake as last night. She’d run so far; she didn’t have the faintest clue where the field of grass was. Amora sighed. What a pity. She wanted to see the flower again. She remembered how beautiful it was.

Amora stopped, leaning against her stick. This part of the forest was different. It had snowed in too, but there weren’t as many trees, so there was no enormous canopy to block off sunlight. That meant the snow was thinner and she didn’t need the stick to secure good footing anymore.

Amora wandered forward, making sure to walk in a straight line, before stopping at a small tree. Its distinct white bark drew her to it. She peered closer. The bark looked smooth, even up-close, and didn’t have any obvious striations like the other trees. It looked much older too, with no leaves- or branches for that matter. She stepped around, absentmindedly dragging her hand over the trunk as she walked. It felt warm to the touch, and it spread across her palm as she rounded to the other side.

“Hot! What the-”

Amora snatched her hand back, blowing at her fingers as she looked back over at what she touched. A black mark. Two rings overlapping, branded into the side of the tree. She put her palm over the brand, careful not to touch it, and felt heat radiate off it.

“Creepy”

An uneasiness tugged at her stomach as she squinted closer. The brand looked recent. Like it had only just been burned into the tree. Amora gulped loudly. She wanted to get as far away from the tree as possible.

She put her spear against the bark to mark the way she came, but it felt hard, like trying to scratch stone. She grunted, putting the weight of her body behind the spear. The tree seemed to resist her, standing strong against her efforts.

“Hah!”

Finally! She succeeded- with great effort, in scoring the side of the trunk.

Instantly, a smoky smell escaped from the laceration.

“No, not from there…”

She looked down at her spear, tracking a thin trail of smoke, and saw fire. Her spear had caught aflame, like striking a match.

It was a small flame. But it was fire! She swung it wildly until it winked out.

Amora stared at the end of the spear, flicking her finger at the charred black tip.

“Double creepy”

The spearhead had burnt into a dull rounded end so she brought out her rock, slashing off blackened wood. She looked back at the mark, and the small cut she’d made.

It’s probably time to get going.

Amora left the tree behind her, pace much faster than before as she shaved at her stick compulsively.

She wandered further, fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder for the tenth time. Until- she stopped. She found something.

A small log blocked her path. Clumps of wet moss grew over it, like a sleeve of green, but that wasn’t why she stopped. That wasn't what caught her eye. There was something growing next to the log.

“The flower!”

Amora skipped forward excitedly, peering at the flower. She exhaled as she neared. One soft, unbroken breath. It was only a day but so much had happened since she saw it last. She felt like a different person.

But it was still here. It wasn’t the same one she saw before- but it was still the same flower.

Sterling white in a nightmarish forest. Amora sighed, setting her rock and spear down as she wiped moss away. She took a seat, watching the small, delicate beauty tremble against the wind.

Something shuffled behind her. She blinked, hands moving before she could think.

“Wha-”

A snake dove at her in a blur of red and purple. Amora jerked backward, falling off the log. However, disorientation did not hold her for long. She sprung to her feet as fast as she could, lifting the spear with two hands, bracing herself for another attack.

The snake reared his head, flashing rows of thick fangs, each dripping with yellow venom. Amora's body moved automatically, sudden panic at the helm, holding the spear out in front of her like a shield. The snake hissed, making a loud garbled rattling sound, like metallic grating, as it slithered forward aggressively. Without further warning, it lunged again. Faster than before. Faster than Amora could react. Jaws clamping around the stick, thrashing wildly as it wrenched it from her hands.

Amora fell forward as she lost her grip, slamming into the muddy snow. She looked up, as it raised its head again, hood fanning out once more. She shot up, anticipating the strike, leaping out of its reach and back onto the log.

She could hear her heart pounding as the snake pursued her, gliding up the log with ease. She dove off, landing on the other side.

Amora shrieked as pain shot up her leg. She’d landed on it awkwardly. Panic closed around her throat as she struggled to limp away. She whipped her head back and saw its approach. The snake followed, soundlessly flashing down the log with ease. It was quicker. As if her helplessness only added to its bloodlust. Gritting her teeth at the pain, she tried to scramble away, but it was futile. She could only go so far.

And as fear intensified, a kind of clarity pulsed through her.

It all culminated to this point. Everything she’d ever done. Everything her past self had done. It all led here. To this.

“It's all such fucking bullshit”

Amora slumped down, leaning against the base of a nearby tree. She brought her hands out onto the ground behind her. Grabbing at anything. Any chance. She heard it hiss again as her hand clasped around something. A rock. Amora held it in her palm as the snake neared. With a scream- a war cry, she threw it desperately, sending it spinning through the air- nailing it in the head.

Bullseye.

The stone bounced harmlessly off the snake’s head.

She watched on with dread as it slid forward, unfazed and baring its fangs. Amora gazed into its cave of teeth. Into death. Into this inevitability. And propped herself up against the tree. One last gambit.

She braced herself as the snake reared its head back, ready to strike. It lunged forward-

And slammed into the tree, fangs glancing against hard bark.

Amore looked up from where she landed. Did it work? Was she alive?

She watched as it wobbled, dazed from the impact. Its head drooped low, near the base of the tree. She pushed herself off the ground and stepped closer, taking advantage of its stupor, and brought her foot down hard.

There was a sickening crunch as she pressed her entire weight onto its head, seemingly flattening it against the ground. Its body thrashed wildly, flinging dirt and debris into the air. But she grabbed the tree, leaning onto her injured leg as the force almost knocked her off balance.

She stomped again.

And again.

Until its body stopped thrashing. Until it stilled. Until she ran out of energy and could no longer lift her leg. Even then, she sprung off it, scrambling away.

Dizzily, and once she was sure it really wasn't coming for her again, she looked back at the body. Her heart thundered in her ears. She felt nauseous.

Was it dead?

She’d stomped on it countless times, even after it stopped moving.

It was dead. It had to be.

Good.

Good? She looked back at it. Its head was bent and deformed, eyes leaking some kind of white fluid and blood was flowing out of its mouth.

She did that.

Amora felt like throwing up. It was dead. She killed it. It happened so fast. It didn’t seem real.

But it was.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m so sorry I’m sorry”

Tears welled up as she reached a hand out toward the corpse.

She did that.

Amora sat beside the body, head resting against her knees.

And cried.

---

Amora left the snake at the base of the tree. Tears stained down her cheeks.

She broke off dry branches, snapping them into smaller sticks, throwing them onto the floor next to her. She broke them off the drier trees, collecting leaves and bundling them up on the ground, shoving aside debris and the soft wet dirt, revealing a flatter, harder, more compact dirt ground underneath.

Using her stick as support, she hobbled away.

---

Amora brought fire with her when she returned, setting light to broken wood. She moved the snake over, cutting into it with her rock. The feeling of slicing into flesh was unnerving and repulsive but she did it anyway. Putting cut portions through sticks.

She was going to eat it. If she didn’t. If she just left it. That would mean it died for nothing. And that-

“That’s just too cruel”

She placed her skewers at the base of the fire, watching white flesh curl and cook.

Her hands were shaking. She was still in shock. Amora looked back at what was left of the snake. She’d cut off its head and tail, she didn’t think it was edible, and placed them near the base of the tree where it died. She looked at its head. Its jaw was still open and bent unnaturally to the side. The entire top of its skull had been caved in and its eyes were sunken, discharging white pus. She stared at its decapitated head and the pool of blood and guts it lay in.

Until the image burned into her.

Until not even closing her eyes could give escape from the haunting truth.

That she was glad. Glad it hadn't been her. Glad it was dead and she was not.

“Horrible. This place is so horrible. Everything- everything wants to kill you. A forest of killers. Even. Even me.”

Amora paused.

“So much for being pure”

Amora turned and faced the flower beside her. Petals still a snow white, untainted and oblivious to the neighbouring brutality.

“But you’re different though, aren’t you”

She felt so empty. So tired. She reached her hand over the petals, grimacing as she felt its velvety texture against her palm. The flower seemed to gently lean into her hand. A kiss of love. Of trust. Of innocence. Amora could smell the burning meat now. If only she could have been like that. If only- She felt the urge to crush it. Some kind of unwarranted act of savagery. Of jealousy. Perhaps it was in her nature to destroy.

It rippled against her palm. Trembling, caught in the jaws of a lion. She closed her eyes and let her fist close.

Amora felt a light sting on her palm. She lifted it and saw a spiral of deep cuts across her hand. She stood up. She was bleeding a lot now, dripping onto the dirt ground. She had barely felt it. She looked back at the flower in confusion, the edges of the white petals were now stained a bright red. And it was spreading. She watched as webs of crimson crept slowly over each petal, drinking in her blood. Expanding until no longer was there any trace of that sinless white. Until red overflowed and the flower opened up. Fanning outward, each petal dilating greedily. She watched as it travelled down the stem and into the earth. A complete change.

Innocence turned corrupt. She stared at this tainted red. This incarnation of duplicity.

And a flower stared back.

Still it trembled. Petals flowing softly in the cold breeze. After all- it was still the same flower.

Not with the purity it once had but more vivid. More alive.

A different kind of beautiful.

Amora walked over to the snake meat, taking one of the skewers in hand, before sitting on the log opposite the red flower.

Slowly she closed her eyes and bit into the snake.