Careful not to slip on the slimy ground, Kandide cautiously took a few steps, first lookingin one direction,and then the other, trying to establish some sort of bearing-a landmark,something that can tell me where i am, she thought. But she saw no landmarks, only thick, tangled vies hanging from gnarled branches that reached out to crawled at her like so many bony fingers as tried to make her way through-to where, she did not know. At least mother could have let me change clothes first, she thought, tugging her shirt free from a reluctant bush full of thorns. Still wearing her pearlescent cape abd the foral attire of the court, Kandidecould not have been more inappropriately dressed. Glancing down at the hem of her long flowing gown, she saw that it was already caked with black mud. The delicate fabric seemed to snag on the dense underbush with every step she took. And yet, evenin her destress, the fee princess had the proud look nobility. She was poisd and beautiful beyond compare, with hign cheekbones and skin that was silvery-white like freashly fallen snow. Her nearly waist-length hair shimmered gold for a minute and platinum the next. Forcing herself to keep walking, Kandid's head suddenly jerked backward, leaving her throat bare and exposed. She dared not to mover or even breathe. Stay calm, she tied to tell herself,fearing that her pounding heart could be heard by whomever-or whatever had grabbed onto her. Kandid's eye's slowly focused upward.Only then did she catch her breath. Thee was nothing to see-nothing exept he twisted branch that had become entangled in her hair. Reaching up, she hastily snapped it in two, freeing herself from its thorny grasp. Each time she moved her left arm, a sharp pain shot through her shoulder and wing. It was a constant reminder of the terrible accident. "They didn't even try to heal me," she mumbled, tossing the last sliver of bark to te ground. "They're jealous. Ther're all jealous of my beauty, thats why. but they're not going to get away with it. I won't let them. I'll find a way out of here. I will." With each step she took, Kandide's annoyance increased, asdid her sense of her helplessness. She was disoriented, exhaudted, and completly alone. Panic began to replace common sense. Her angry quickly gave wat to all of the other common emotions that she had keptpent up for so very long. The pain. The fear. The guilt. The shame. The sadness-the terrible sadness over losing her father-all of her emotions streamed forth at once. Mother sent me away. Why does she hate me so? Tears began to well in her eyes. Mother blames me for what happened to father, thats why. Now she hates me-they all hate me because i'm-i'm an imperfect now! "No!" she shreiked desperatly trying to maintain some semblance of control. "I'm not an imperfect. My wing will be healed." Kandide glanced back at what wasonce a beautiful iridecent wing that now fell limp, crump;ed, and broken. "I will be perfect again. I'm too beautiful not to be. i mustn't think about my wing, or mother, or Tara, or the healers-only about what to do right now. "If i just had my crossbow,at least then..." She paused for a moment to listen. It was so quiet, so very quiet. The few remaining leaves that clung to the mostly barren trees dared not even rustle, lest they awaken the voiceless land.