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Sasha awoke with a jolt, her eyes immediately opening at the sound of the slam. The locking noise had her scrambling to her feet. It took her a moment for her to completely come to her senses, and when she did, Sasha let out a low, keening cry. The nightgown. The hair. The slightest differences in shape and form.

No.

She didn't notice Nona right away, instead sweeping across the floor to slam her fists against the nearest line of bars.

Desperation was bitter on her lips, and the urge to scream was unbelievably overwhelming. It was harsh and nearly painful as the sound of frustration tore free from her. It was just like last time - but worse. This was not her body. This was not her. Her throat threatened to close entirely, and Sasha's vision swam as she continued to scream and pound at the metal bars of the prison. Tears ran unbidden down her cheeks, hot and salty and weak.

She'd been so foolish. It wasn't her own well-being that was on the line. She'd brought Wash into this, too. The thought of her touching him was enough to cause Sasha to fall to her knees with a low sob, her bruised hands lifting to her face.

There was an odd sensation in the back of her mind, a heavy weight that was familiar but different; an undiscernable shape in the midst of thick, thick fog. Lowering her hands, Sasha peered around the room and finally caught sight of her weapon. She paused, almost terrified that this was some sort of cruel joke.

Nona?

Nothing but a distorted noise deep in the recesses of Sasha's mind.

Rising to her feet, Sasha moved towards the glinting, curved hooks of Nona's blades, reaching out through the spaces in the bars. No matter how she stretched, the weapon was out of reach. Just out of reach. Sasha let out a low sob, curling up to rest against the barred wall. At least she could see her Nona. There was a little solace to be found in that.

Why is this happening?

And then, quieter: Will you be okay?

Sasha brushed the tears from her cheeks.

Are we going to be okay?

No definitive answer. Sasha began to hum softly. She felt maddened, burdened by the constant urge to give in to the wracking sobs that threatened.

Matt just sat there all night, not even a single word was spoken between the two hunters while the others slept. It wasn't as if he was trying to be unfriendly it was just, after what Sasha had said he wanted to avoid chatter and noise. Fog curled around his feet as the sun started to rose, finally there was some light again. Even though it was slightly pyschological Matt felt as if the sun being up kept the creepers away.

Getting to his feet he dusted off the grass and dirt as he glanced at Sasha.

"Nothing so far," as he shivered peeling off the damp jacket. The the night had gotten cool and with the fog everything was five times colder.

Wash stretched, covering his mouth with a fist as he yawned.

Y'think we could get that mattress out the cabin and sleep on it out here next time?" he joked, groaning as he sat up and slowly rotated his neck and shoulders.

Outside Sasha's prison the shadow passed by once more. Soon a rasping, harsh voice began to filter through, singing idly. The sound strengthened and faded regularly, as if they were passing by, then coming near once more.

Down in the willow garden
Where me and my true love did meet
It was there we went a courting
My love fell off to sleep




At the campsite, Sasha's fingers nimbly made quick work of her hair, expert plucking out leaves and clumps of dirt until it hardly looked like she'd slept on the ground at all. For a brief moment, she held on to the last strand of hair, a small frown pursing her lips as she eyed it, then let go with a sigh. "A mattress would just get soggy, it would be as sleeping on a sponge," she answered Wash's question with an oddly solemn seriousness, before getting up to stretch her limbs.

Tidying her clothes, she directed that look at Matt, "If you begin to feel unwell, you will tell me. Anything deep enough to effect you, will be a problem. Now, we need to find Jerry and..." she paused in though, and then widened her eyes as if remembering, "...Dylon. Yes, Jerry and Dylon must be found. It would be quicker to split up and search but that did not work so well last time, so we shall stay together." Her eyes lowered to a near glare, "No wandering out of my sight."



At camp Jerry & Dylon, the morning was simply very, very damp.

The damp young man had been patiently allowing the other hunter his rest, despite the awkwardness of having another man cling to him for warmth. He too was cold and damp after all, but the sun was finally rising.

"Dude.... Jerry...." Dylon coughed, shaking Jerry's shoulder as he was once again snoring, a delightful tune he'd had to endure all night.

"Jerry wake up, man. It's morning." Younger sisters clinging for for big brother was one thing, but a fully grown man was another entirely. "Seriously, man."

Dylon cleared his throat once Jerry was off him, getting himself to his feet. "Uneventful." He said with a smile and a nod. "Some sleep is better than none. But I am looking forward to my uncomfortable mattress back in the dorms." Dylon gave a light hearted chuckle, flicking off bits of earth off his clothes.

"Well, now that it's daylight, can we start looking for the others?"

"Right.." Dylon looked around, the only real vantage point he could see would have been the trees. Climbing a tree with an injured hand didn't sound ideal, but it was a good idea to see where they should go before running blindly.

"Do you want me to try climbing one of these trees? My wrist still hurts a bit, but if I'm careful it could get us a view of where the others are."

Dylon chuckled lightly, "I think I can try at least. It's worth a shot." The young man rolled his shoulders, looking for a good tree to climb.

"Do me a favour and make a leaf pile for me to fall into if I take a tumble, eh?" He was joking.