immodesty of her attire: a thin, white chemise. How she came to be in this forest in such a state of undress is beyond her comprehension, and she has not the concentration to spare to give the matter much thought. The monstrosity behind her is closing the already narrow gap between them as it crashes through the brush as easily as if the jungle was little more than mist.
It occurs to her with a jolt that she has no idea where she is going. The forest is so dense, she cannot tell in which direction safety might lie. For
Just Another Struggling Writer 
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