~*~
Examining the articles, Daria noted that they were smeared in spots with mud, and stained with something reddish-purple. But there were no rips or tears, and no sign of blood. Daria carefully examined the surrounding area. She saw no signs of a struggle, just Quinn's clothes, looking like they'd been taken off and dropped. They were next to some tall weeds bearing little blackish berries, and empty stems from which berries had been picked. Daria easily recognized them as pokeweed from previous experience.
Pokeweed. All parts of the plant were poisonous; leaves, stems, roots, and berries, except for the tender young leaves in early spring, which could be eaten as poke salad. Daria had never felt the urge to try this. She'd read about Pokeweed several years ago in Poisonous Plants of North America, ironically, when she'd first half-seriously considered poisoning Quinn.
She'd also read that the ripe and semi-ripe berries were widely used by the Pilgrims and other early settlers for inks and dyes, yielding a range of hues from wine red to deep bluish purple. Daria had used them this way herself when she was younger, by the simple expedient of placing berries on a t-shirt and squishing them. That had become her favorite t-shirt, to her mother's annoyed amusement, until she couldn't get into it anymore. Daria had also learned that pokeberries did a very good job of dyeing skin, also to her mother's annoyed amusement, or maybe amused annoyance. The stains lasted for three or four days, until she'd shed that layer of skin.
But what had Quinn done with the berries she'd picked? Was she seeking some makeup longer lasting than mud? Her clothes lying here suggested that she might have experimented with body painting. Daria hoped one of these was the case. But she remembered what Quinn had said just before she'd succumbed to the effects of those other berries. "But those weren't the Glitter Berries. You know, the Glitter Berries, the ones that fill your mouth with sparkling glitter when you bite into them! That is, until you spread your shimmering wings and fly away..."
Daria fervently hoped Quinn wasn't eating every berry she could find, searching for the magical Glitter Berries that would transform her into a fairy princess. If she were, she was almost sure to find some eventually that would lay her low. These pokeberries were poisonous, but Daria didn't know how many constituted a lethal dose. She picked one and bit into it, then carefully spat it out. As she remembered, they were seriously bitter. She doubted that Quinn would have eaten any if her sense of taste was still functioning normally. On the other hand, Daria thought, if Quinn does find the Glitter Berries, I hope she saves me some. I would dearly love to spread my shimmering wings and fly the hell outta here.
Daria picked up Quinn's spoor and resumed following it through the forest, blazing her trail as she went. She almost immediately lost it on the soft mat of leaf litter, which didn't particularly surprise her, so she kept following the path of least resistance in the direction that Quinn had last been heading. Just then that little smartass part of her brain seemed to wake up again.
"o/ For my heart knows what the wild Quinn knows, o/"
it sang,
'o/ And I must go where the wild Quinn goes.
Wild Quinn, sister Quinn, which is best,
A wand'ring fool or a butt at rest? o/"
Daria winced, shook her head and slogged on. That was bad. Sometimes she wished that little smartass part of her brain had an off switch.
A minute or two later, Daria suddenly froze in her tracks, listening. She thought she'd heard something. She stood still, breathing softly, not even making any clothing noises, straining her ears. But, other than a fly... wait! There it was again. Faintly, from ahead and to the right, something that sounded like "Dee, dee..." Daria skirted a blackberry patch, took a big step across a tiny stream, and peeked around a tree trunk.
Ahead, sunlight was streaming down through a hole in the canopy into another clearing. Many flowers bloomed in this clearing, flowers resembling daisies, but white, with yellow centers. Suddenly some of the flowers waved violently, as though some ungulant were grazing at their base. Daria cautiously crept closer.
The bunch of flowers rose into the air, followed by Quinn's head and hand, and then by her upper torso. Daria shrank behind the trunk of a mighty Hickory and watched. Caught in the shaft of sunlight, the white flower petals glowed, as did Quinn's pale skin. Her reddish gold hair blazed like a torch against the background of dappled forest greens.
It was now clear what Quinn had done with the pokeberries. Her body was painted with finger-width lines, swirls, and spirals, with a few palm prints in interesting places. Jane would love to have a picture, just for the artistry of the designs. One of her perky little breasts had been decorated with a spiral, while the other sported a smiley face using the pink nipple as its nose. Imaginative decorations accented other features. She danced about the glade to music only she could hear.
Damn, Daria thought. Stoned out of her mind, lost in the forest, and naked, and she's still fashion forward.
Quinn was making daisy chains. She was wearing one on her head like a tiara, two around her neck, and one around her hips. She would occasionally stop plaiting the flowers together and dance about the clearing again, perhaps to see how the garlands moved with her. She was using some of her old ballet moves, and some that she was apparently making up on the spot because they felt good.
Deciding to try guile this time, Daria called out in a high voice, "Yoo-hoo!"
Quinn stopped and listened. After a few seconds, she called back. "Yoo-hoo! Who a-are you?"
Daria thought fast, then answered, still in the high voice, "I'm a wee tiny elfling, and I'm losted!"
"Oh, you poor little thing," Quinn replied. "Where are you, wee elfling?"
"I'm over he-ere! Yoo-hoo!"
Quinn approached the tree, stopping about fifteen feet away. "Oh, I see you... hey! You don't look like a wee tiny elfling to me!"
Annoyed, Daria thought, "Well, you don't look like a fairy princess either, but I'm not blowing your cover!" She thought fast again. "Well, that's because I, um, took a bite out of the wrong side of a mushroom. It'll wear off after a while. Can you help me find my mommy?"
"And what's a wee tiny elfling doing with a camera?" Quinn demanded.
Oops. Daria looked down at the camera in her hand. "I, uh, found it. It was lying on the ground where the big ugly people camp. Our elfhouse is close to there. Can you please help me find my way back?"
Quinn planted her fists on her hips and frowned at Daria. "I don't think you're a wee tiny elfling at all. I think you're that evil wizard Gargle-something, and you're trying to catch those little blue guys. Well, I am a friend and protector of all the little cute things in the forest, and I'm not gonna help you find them, cause they're cute and you're not, mister giant wee elfling with a camera!" And with that, she spread her imaginary shimmering wings and flew away.
Disgusted and frustrated, Daria watched Quinn skip off between the tree trunks, flapping her arms semi-gracefully. She'd never gotten within lunging distance. Trying to run her down now would be futile, and risked chasing her far away. For someone so stoned that she was flapping naked through the forest thinking she was a fairy, Quinn certainly was a stickler for detail. Dammit, it's not fair, she thought. They all go along with each other's hallucinations. They all see the spirit animals. They all see the herds of zebras. But do I get to make up something? Do I get to be a wee tiny elfling? Hell, no! Daria pocketed the camera and, muttering darkly, headed back along her marked trail to check on the old ones.