Darkness drapes around her, embracing her like a lover, but she shrugs if off, tells it to go to hell, and calls out to the dogs of war to keep it at bay.

Darkness battles the canines of conflict until they settle on a stalemate, retreating to their home turf and watching the girl on the path.

She grows stronger, though with each step she is more lost than ever before.

In time, she embraces her confusion until it becomes her own and then she is no longer lost, but simply a perpetual traveler, loose change from a thousand worlds jingling in her pockets.

Shoes of errant muses protect her feet from the shards of uncertainty and the stones of doubt.

Erstwhile Fates give her lodging along the endless stone bridge.

She feasts on the bread of knowledgeable atmosphere buttered with hope and daydreams.

She takes hardtack and honey when she goes and before lunchtime she has wandered to the edge of craftwork slumber and rests.