The forest was full of diffused light, radiating from all directions. It was just bright enough to make out the shapes around her. She was in an old growth forest, the likes of which haven't been seen in the US since the industrial revolution.
She was out of breath, panting. She had been running for so long and was so tired. Leaning against a tree, hands on her knees, trying to catch her breath, her eyes never stopped moving; searching. She knew It was out there, tracking her. She heard a rustle, to the right and a little behind. Her head whipped around and her breath caught in her chest. Had It caught up already!? She knew she couldn't outrun It for long but she had hoped for a little more time.
The forest was still. There was no sound, no movement. It was eerie and the light did not help. It came from nowhere and everywhere all at the same time. The trees were huge. They must be thousands of years old. Steamers of moss hung everywhere clinging to the trees like a needy lover. She had become tangled in their grasping hands once and almost lost her life. The forest debris on the ground was thick and spongy. It made running difficult, and dangerous in its own way. If you weren't careful, you could slip and get tangled in the vines; or worse, break a bone.
She noticed earlier tonight, (or was it weeks ago? It was impossible to tell here) there were no living creatures here. Nothing but her, and It. No movement, no life.
She didn't know how she had gotten here, or where here was for that matter, but she was determined to find a way out. Her breathing had returned close enough to normal that she decided it was time to move, possibly find some defensible place to rest.
A river! She could hear it! The bubbling, rushing sound of moving water. It was the first sound she had heard in hours (days?). Her mood already lightened by the fact that there had been so sign of the creature hunting her, it soared dramatically at the thought of fresh, cool water. She could get a drink, wash off her filthy arms and face. She looked down at herself and stuck her tongue out in disgust. She was glad there were no people here to run into. She looked like hell, at least, the parts of herself she could see did. Her jeans were more hole than pant and she was sure if she tried to wash the mud off they would fall apart completely. Her shirt, which she suspected of beginning as a mossy green tank top, was missing a strap and had a hole on the bottom that was big enough for a cat to crawl through. She was convinced her knee high boots had, at one time, been designer but were now hobo chic. God, she didn't even want to think about her hair!
With single-minded determination she followed the sound of the water. It was almost to a deafening roar by now and she could hardly contain her excitement. Scrabbling up the side of an incline she knew the river would be on the other side. When she reached the top, what she saw shocked and confused her. About ten yards in front of her was a stream. She couldn't really see in the dim light but it looked to be very slow moving, and very shallow. She slowly inched her way forward, stop motion style, not unlike the movements of a cat stalking prey, until she was at the bank. Where had the roar come from? It couldn't have come from this tiny stream. Was this an off shoot of a major river? If so, then why couldn't she hear it anymore?
Deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, she dropped to her knees in the water and sank her hands into the cool freshness. She splashed water up her arms, scrubbing the caked on mud and sweat away. Using her hands as a cup, she scooped up handful after handful of water and drank until she thought she was going to be sick. She had never tasted anything better than this cool, crisp, slightly muddy because of her, fresh water. After she had slaked her thirst, she splashed off her face and scrubbed the back of her neck. How she wished she could strip down and sink into the water. To scrub the gunk from her hair and clothes and just lay on the grassy bank, naked, until everything was dry. But she knew she couldn't. She knew as soon as she let her guard down enough It would appear and she would end up running for her life, naked as the day she was born. But maybe she could at least wash her hair….
As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she heard It. Whipping her head up, she saw It, right across the stream from her! Had it been watching her!? She jumped to her feet and It let out a scream. It was the most horrible sound she had ever heard. It was almost human. It was so full of hunger and rage that it held her transfixed. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, a word shimmered across her consciousness. Wendigo. She didn't know where the word came from but she didn't dwell on it.
The second it locked into place she turned on her heel and ran, as fast as she could, like her life depended on it, because of course, it did. She moved like a deer. Fast and fleet, sure of foot. As she concentrated on staying ahead of the Wendigo, she craned her head around to see where it was. As she rounded a huge rock, she crashed into something solid and a band of steel went around her waist. Whipping her head around to see what it was, she came face to rippling pectorals of the most gorgeous chest she had ever seen. It was broad and solid. Her eyes gliding up a neck covered in bronze skin, a rugged jaw with a few days worth of stubble, and lingered on his full, pink lips before continuing up to his eyes. He glanced down at her for a split second and she lost herself in the depths of those eyes.
In one incredibly smooth, masculine, sexy move, he thrust her behind his back and brought up his other hand which contained... a home made flamethrower? She peeked around his shoulder just as the Wendigo came around the rock. He caught it square in the face with a jet of fire. It shriek and thrashed. Flailing in an effort to escape the flames that engulfed it. Toasted. It all took just a fraction of a second but it was long enough for all of Devyn's memories to come flooding back. Millions of memories flashed through her mind and, with a gasp, she remembered who she was, where she was, and what she was doing there. She also remembered, in delicious detail, the man to whose back she was currently clinging.
Devyn started to back away, trying to get her baring's. What had happened!? She had never lost control of a dream, let alone enough so that she lost herself like that.
Suddenly, her body jerked. Her heel had caught on a rock and she went tumbling backward.