Bronwyn Navarr The Third Pod Bronwyn stared at the mysterious man as he spoke. “If not I can tell you. Another time. Because you must really go now.” She shuddered, something about him was haunting her, almost as if he was simply her imagination. Turning slowly, she began to cross the field. Bronwyn listened for footsteps, hoping he would follow her. After a minute, she realized there was no sound except her own footfalls, and turned. He was gone from her sight. She stopped suddenly, glancing at the wreckage for a sign of him. Nothing. The last thing he had said echoed loudly. You must really go now. Shivering again, Bronwyn continued to walk slowly. Something told her she would see him again, that she needed to stop worrying about him. She stepped carefully into the deep green foliage and moved branches out of her face. The plants were near waist height, and a layer of mud made the uncut path difficult for her to proceed through. It was only then she realized how exhausted she really was. She continued to walk, until her legs burned with the effort. Her long brown hair was damp with mist, and her clothing was torn and mud-caked, It was worrisome, but not more than the fact that she had no shelter. Or food. Her eyes were beginning to droop with weariness. "Great planning ahead." She muttered to herself, becoming frustrated. A quick search of the area showed only one suitable spot she could stay, a small carved out stump. Sighing one last time, and setting herself inside the tiny opening, she tried to get some rest.