Sleepless cast her wild, desperate gaze back upon her haven as she struggled, dragged a foot at a time out of her happy home. Her bower! Her specimens! Her (newly-trampled - oh, how she yearned to fix that!) garden! Curse the lies (and fake witch pride) that had brung her so, so low!
Last, pleading glances (and scraping mud) were all she could take with her now from her carefully curated life.
Like it or (decidedly) not, the journey had begun...
END