There’s that cackle again, distant and echoing and everywhere.

”Ahhhhh, mortal. What aren’t I?”

Then, in a sing-songy voice;

”I am you but larger than you and stranger than you and stronger than you. You are me but smaller than me and weaker than me and afraid of me.”

There are figures in the distance. Are they watching? Are they closing in? As soon as she begins to focus on them, they vanish behind the trees.