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Elena had been in a fabric store. She remembered that much, at least, as her mind struggled its way back towards consciousness. But that was certainly not where she was now as the girl shifted slightly to get a tree root out of her back. Wait, what? Blue eyes popped open suddenly, and Elena was now staring up at the glorious green leaves of some kind of tree that she couldn't be bothered to identify. What the <********>.

Still staring up, she shifted again, the rustle of her clothes grabbing her attention. It didn't sound like the stuff she'd been wearing in Destiny City, and when Elena glanced down at herself, that was quickly confirmed. She was...oh great, she had somehow transformed into Selenite while she'd been unconscious and moved into the woods. Great. She closed her eyes for a moment, just to try and gather her thoughts, though when she opened them, they were still rather scatter--what the ******** just happened.

The forest had flickered and changed for a moment - hadn't it? It hadn't been the kind of nauseatingly happy and cheerful place, like something out of a Disney movie. For just a moment there, Selenite could have sworn she'd seen something else, like the Disney crap was a glamour or facade, laid over something entirely more dark and terrifying. She blinked again, but nothing changed, except a sharp increase in her wariness. Well. With a huff, she got off the rather uncomfortable ground and brushed herself off, totally ignoring the faint sounds of music that could be heard off in the distance. That wasn't important. Nor was that flash of light that Selenite studiously ignored. She looked around once it had disappeared, noting that in a different direction, she could hear the sounds of laughter and some kind of moving water; she didn't know anyone here, and wherever the hell she was, she had the feeling that avoiding the natives would be a good idea.

What was important was finding the a*****e who had drugged her and dumped her here. And then Selenite would have a nice long chat with them, and eventually there would be a shiny new starseed to turn in. Oh yes, there would be. "******** you," Selenite muttered, blue eyes narrowed in tightly controlled rage. She didn't know where she was going, but any direction had to be better than just sitting there. Waiting. Waiting seemed like a bad idea. Waiting seemed like it might draw the attention of whatever lurked behind the surface of this forest. She rolled up her skirt before stalking off, tucking it onto the loop of belt her uniform so conveniently came with. It gave her greater freedom of movement, in case she had to chase someone - or run away.

As she passed between the pretty trees and the nodding flowers, growing in hundreds of colours she'd never thought of, she came upon a raven eating a teddy-bear. The raven had opened up its stomach and was gobbling down the red guts from the inside, nestled between clouds of cotton-wool as it greedily slurped up the slithery organs. It stopped when Selenite approached, eyeing her beadily, but did not fly away.

"Would you like some?" it said to her, with a human's voice. Something stringy fell from its black beak. "Once you eat their food, you can never leave."

"Whose food?" the raven parroted back. "It's not your food. Is it food to them? No, their meat's not your meat, and what they eat isn't what you eat. They hunt to kill, not hunt to feed." It dipped its beak back in the teddy-bear and came up with a length of purple intestine. Once this was swallowed down, it said: "This forest isn't safe for the blind. Where's your compass, to lead you to the center?"

"Sight," said the raven. It gulped down more offal. A bit ungraciously, it then said -- "I suppose you'll want to be kitted out, won't you; well, follow me."

With a flap of its wings it bounded to the nearest branch, and then swooped away into the trees. It was large and black, easily spotted amongst the pale shining branches and gently fluttering green leaves that decorated them. The raven called, "Over here, Selenite! Over here!"

It seemed to want her to go into the next clearing.

The bird ignored that question. It was busy in the next clearing -- amongst all the sweet-smelling flowers and comedically perfect bushes, it was untying a bundle of sticks that had been wrapped up in some white cloth. They were sticks of all sorts -- different trees, different woods, some with the bark left on and some stripped of it.

There were about twelve sticks in all, arrayed in a line when the bird had finished. "Dowsing," said the bird. "If you haven't got a compass, you'll need to dowse out the direction. So pick the right stick -- the stick that's right for you."

"That one isn't the right one," said the raven impatiently.

The sticks were arranged thus:

| | | | | | | | | |

And were all mostly the same length. "Perhaps you're thinking of which stick would be right for me," the bird said. "Don't."

"I told you," said the raven. "That first one is terrible and that last one just isn't right enough. People can't follow instructions these days."

"Yes," said the raven. "Just as I told you in the first place."

Augh.

The stick was curiously heavy in her hand. As she held it, it seemed to want to twist -- it made a sharp lurch east as she held it. There was a fork at one end. "You'll want to follow that to the center of the forest," said the raven, "and not look at anything else. No lights, no music. Music in the Elflands is not music. Light in the Elflands is shadows. Do you understand?"