She gasped as she took in a breath, and her voice echoed in the eerily silent forest.
It was dark but her eyes could see perfectly. Smells seemed to create pictures of the world around in her mind, a swath of color, a perfect picture of extreme accuracy she could settle over the picture her eyes gave her, making everything clearer, revealing things that her eyes alone could never have seen.
This was all new.
All of it.
The trees, the ground, the sky, the fog… her.
She was… new?
She tried to think back, but there was nothing to find. Nothing before this precise moment, standing in this forest.
No parents, no house, no Thanksgiving dinners around the family table… people were supposed to have those, weren't they?
So where was her's?
She looked up to the moon - it was no more than a wisp of white in the sky. By next night it would be a new moon for sure.
But that little white seemed to be looking at her. Coaxing her. Calling her.
"Hello," It seemed to say.
She could find no voice to answer with. Instead she raised her hand, offering the moon a little wave.
"Hello, Agony."
Agony? It was hardly a name.
She searched the moon further, confused, and honestly a little scared.
"A-Agony?" She managed.
"Yes, Agony." The moon agreed, and it seemed to glow warmly in greeting.
She looked down at herself. At the tattered robes that clung to her sickly slender frame. At the bare feet, at the long toes that curled into the earth for what little stability it could provide.
She looked back to the moon. "Wha-what am I?"
"You are Agony." The moon hummed. "And you are alive again. Go along, young one. Go see what the world may offer you this time."
And that warm, comforting glow faded, and the sense that the moon was watching her, coaxing her, calling her with it.
She again looked herself over.
Her skin was deathly pale, and hugged her bones dangerously. When she felt of her face she found her eyes were sunken slightly into her skull, as if she were a fruit left uneaten too long that had begun to rot.
Her lips were dry, and she realized she was thirsty.
She sniffed the air and tasted the distant scent of water on her dry tongue.
She glanced up to the moon again. "I do not understand why I am here." She told it, not sure if it was listening. "But this name you place upon me cannot be a good one. I may not know what I am but I know it is more than pain. It is more than confusion. It is more than… this!" She gestured at herself as a whole.
The moon did not reply.
Shaking her head, she went in search of water.