Journey into the Gloom

Honestly, I wasn't exactly thrilled about this whole "team-up" situation. Lily, with her relentlessly sunny disposition and her backpack practically overflowing with little pouches of dried weeds, was proving to be an even bigger thorn in my side than usual. But, as my sad, wilting brambles had so dramatically demonstrated, my magic was about as potent as a damp tea bag. And if Blackwood truly withered, well, so did I. That was a thought I tried to shove down with a particularly bitter berry, but it kept popping back up like an unwelcome sprout.

"Are you sure we should go this way, Amy?" Lily chirped, her voice bouncing off the skeletal trees like a particularly annoying bird. She pointed a finger, smudged with what looked suspiciously like mud and possibly some crushed dandelion, towards a path that was less a path and more a suggestion of where trees *used* to be.

I grumbled, tugging at a loose thorn that was threatening to snag my cloak. "It's the only way that doesn't look like it's actively trying to eat us. Besides, the really spooky stuff is usually found in the really gloomy bits, isn't it? That's just common sense, even for a village herbalist."