The air was heady and warm, rich with musk and the sounds of life. Water trickled down bowed leaves and into the girl's red curls as she stood naked on wet stone.
Jungle, her mind told her, irritatingly clinical as ever, not a good place to be naked in. Snakes. Bugs. She was busy staring at the deep pool of water that lay before her, surrounded by craggy walk and cut off a distance in front of her by the base of a waterfall.
Leeches, it persisted, which finally got her attention.
She craned her neck to look at the canopy of leaves, and then back down and around, frowning. No clothes in sight. Simply the thought of them felt stifling; she was damp with sweat but utterly at ease, here in the jungle, her hair loose and shoulders relaxed.
She became aware, very suddenly, that something was watching her.
Wake up now, a new voice whispered, low and feminine and comforting, baby girl it doesn't matter what he thinks, you're not ready for this. Wake up.
No, Marcia wanted to say. I am. I'm...but she supposed she wasn't, because she was already reaching for consciousness, stirring.
Behind her, the rage in the coughing roar was the rage of a monster denied.
________________
It was winter.
Deep winter, the kind that rimed the trees and their black jutting branches with frost and made breath turn into fog on the chilly air. Not a friendly season.
Marcia Londo's heels clicked businesslike on the ground as she walked up towards her front door. Her red hair, braided sloppily behind her hair, curled between her shoulder blades as she paused to gather up the newspaper and hopped up the steps, shifting in the uncomfortable shoes as she fumbled with the key and finally managed to get it open.
"I'm home!" She called as she pushed through, and somewhere in the house Clytemnestra-the only cat she'd ever known who was so darn friendly-mewed expectantly.
"Yes, you greedy baby, I'm here to feed you." Marcia kicked off her shoes, pushed the door shut behind her, and scooped up the little tabby as she came running.
