They walked up the woods and came to a fork they'd never encountered before. "Huh. How strange." Simon said, adjusting his glasses nervously. "We've been through these woods millions of times, but we've never come across this fork before." They both looked left and right. The left path looked unruly, with thorn-bushes and thistles and dark, twisted trees. The right path looked much more joyful. Its trees were a lovely deep green, almost the same colour as Clare's deep, emerald eyes, and there were only meadows of flowers to be seen.

Clary then took off traipsing down the left path. She'd only gotten a few steps, when Simon pulled her back. "Hold on a minute, Little Miss Artiste." Simon dragged the 'o' sound in 'hold'. "What's wrong with you? Why can't we go through the path that doesn't scream 'everything down here wants to eat your soul and sacrifice your body to Satan'?"

"Because, my darling Simon," Clare dragged the 'ah' sound in 'darling', "I don't particularly want to walk through a path that screams 'this is where the Care Bears come to throw up rainbows, shit hearts, piss love and sweat happiness. It's too... eurgh there. I like this path." She pointed down the left path. "It has atmosphere, mood and is so... mysterious. Please, Simon? If you want, you can go through Care-Bear-Land. I won't mind. But, I'm going through here."

"And nothing I say is going to stop you." Simon sighed. Clare shrugged an apology. "Fine. Alright, then. Let's get going. But, I warn you. One sign of danger and I'm out."

"Okay, Simon. I wouldn't have it any other way. Just promise me one thing." Simon turned to look at Clare, curiously. "Don't go to those idiots if something happens. You know what they'll do. They'll start to tease you for 'being crazy' again and you know how much I hate that." Clare put quotation marks around 'being crazy' for she knew that her friend was completely sane and that it was the rest of the townsfolk who needed their sanity checked out.

Simon smiled and nodded his agreement.