#madi 02

Harry had thought she had adjusted to the island and its ways. The shifting of the jungle, the strange beasts and flora, the powers, her eternal youth. She had even accepted being swapped with a copy of herself, and the voice that whispered to her about entering the jungle, of letting go and rotting among the debris. But she was not a fan of this nonsense, of time glitching among them.

The farm was a disaster, but it was the sort of mess that she could throw herself into. Harvesting what she could before the fruit tree became a seed, before the fruit rotted, before the fruit became a tree in its own right. Today, some of the potatoes had gone to seed overnight, so she was planting them instead of eating them. 

She'd felt someone approaching, but she'd assumed it was Lily, maybe even Tommy come out to annoy her. "What do you reckon? We'll get spuds, or these'll disappear?" Harry turned to look at them, a small smile on her lips. It wasn't Tommy or Lily, it was... someone she didn't know. She’d seen her working about the farm before, and kept a healthy distance, as she usually did. But... as Harry looked at her for longer, she realised that she did know her. A flash of memory hit her, being frustrated that the woman wouldn’t come with her into the jungle, the scene tinged with green. The beekeeper, someone her fake had interacted with. "What do you want?" Harry grumbled, all the warmth vanished from her voice. 

The meadow is long behind him, and daylight fled with it. He must be close to the exit because the nonstop buzzing of the jungle seems far away. Without it, the aches and pains running through him seem manageable, a mere thought in the back of his head. A twig snaps; he’s surprised how easily he hears it, even though it takes several seconds for the figure to push their way through the trees.

A shadow stands to his left, but he can see no more beyond the humanoid shape. “Who is there?” he asks, squinting, blinking rapidly so his eyes can adjust. It doesn’t help. The leaves above a thick blanket, drowning out all light. But when he looks again, he can make out her features a little clearer. “Madi.”

Frank lets out a breath, relieved, stepping closer. “You startled me, I wasn’t sure if you were something else. The jungle is a lot more active than it was the last time we were in it-- Are you alright?” The question slips out before he can stop it. There’s little he can do if she isn’t. But no sooner does he finish asking than a branch comes crashing down near their feet. A bird startles, shooting through the leaves above, letting in a patch of moonlight.

In the bushes, something moves. Frank indicates it with his head, stepping silently across the ground to pick up the branch -- and he sees a pair of familiar eyes poking out of the bushes. “Bloody hell!” He jerks back, and then peers again. “It’s just the goat, we’re fine.”