Ok someone must have spiked my drink. Though to think about it, I have perfected my impression of a hermit so no spiking there. Willow Rosenburg shook her head groaning as she sat up, shielding her eyes from the blinding sun she continued to ponder. "I guess I'm not in Kansas anymore…" as much as she strained Willow found that she could not recall anything past the epic tunnel: she had been lead in the middle of a dirt road that was encircled by large mushroom like rocks of vivid colours the air was still and stagnant. Sighing she steeled herself against the sinking feeling in her stomach. What the hell is happening to me? Where am I? Moreover, how am I going to get back up that cliff? And what the hell was following me?
Maybe this is just some weird cheese induced dream.