(Outside on the porch sits a young woman who is covered in vines and flowers blooming out of her skin, rot covering patches of her face and any exposed skin. She stares out into the forest, eyes glassy but there is something behind them even if distant.)
(Soon she picks herself up, walking out into the thick wood and stopping at the top of a cliff. Down below she watches the village with careful eyes. For a moment she could feel a firm tug inside her chest, feeling it claw and writhe to free itself from something.)
(Inching closer to the edge, she squints to make something out before the ground gives way under her foot sending her tumbling below.)














