Getting closer to the fire, Rita's heart was slowly pounding louder with anticipation.

Trying to keep an eye of her surroundings for danger, she wondered if this would this be someone who could help her get home, or at least give her some directions? Would they have dark intentions, what if they asked for a favor like her 1st born or a neigh impossible task... or at least trick her somehow into inviting them to her world?

Taking a deep breath of the cool night air to calm her nerves, Rita continued marching carefully towards the light of the fire.

As she got closer, she could begin to see a bit of things between the trees. A clearing around the fire allowed space for a table littered with shapes she half recognized as a few animals and food reminded her she hadn't eaten for a while, not since this morning, whenever that was.

Her heart skipped a beat as she realized she saw a person sitting in a chair holding an instrument. The idea of being able to talk to someone began to thrill her more than she'd liked as she made her way over.

Quickening her pace, she tripped slightly a few times trying to rush over.

When she finally reached the clearing she was heaving a bit, her legs slightly shakey from the relief and stress of what she'd been through taking it's toll on her.

She glanced around as she caught her breath to let her heart settle.

It was as she saw from a distance, in this clearing around the fire, some kind of lizard sat on a log near the fire with it's eyes closed.

Nearby in the light was a large table with a giant radio, a black bird, as well as food and water.

And bundled up for the cold in a rocking chair was an old woman holding a banjo staring back her with an annoyance in her eyes and a grin on her face.

Finishing her playing with a flourish, she raised the banjo she was playing and placed it on the table and messaged her hands. " 'Bout time ya got here, been playin' fer 'ours," she said as she seemed to take a moment to observe Rita.

Rita stared with confusion at the old woman when she noticed movement out of the corner of her eye.

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On top of the antennae that looped as a circle, a black bird she thought looked like a raven stared at her with it's head to the side. It turned and cocked its head a bit to look at her, emitting a small squawk.

Looking down at the radio transmitter, she realized it was connected by a small amp cable to the banjo.

Staring for a moment at the banjo, she saw a smaller critter come from behind the radio and rushed to a small pile of shelled nuts, alongside a pile of emptied shells.

Taking one into it's front paws, it stood on it's hind legs and shouted a loud woo, Rita realized it was a prairie dog.

Catching back up to conversation she jerked her head quickly to turn back to the woman with confusion written on her face. "I-I'm sorry what?"

A glint of amusement was in the eyes of the old woman as she reached for the jug, "the name's Mary Weatherly, was told you were lookin' 'fer me. Also that you needed a bit of help gettin' 'round, so I set all this up."

She gestured to the clearing and it's contents before holding the jug and carefully to avoid the snail Rita finally noticed, and took a few gulps of it's mysterious contents.

With an exclamation of delight, she whipped her mouth with her sleeve and put it back where it was before.

==============================

Getting a request from higher beings was always a mixed bag, thought Mary as she took a swig.

It all depended on who the message was from really, but the nice one's don't have to make your life better, just as the bad one's are able to hurt you the most when they give you what you want.

As far as she could tell, the higher you went, the more "The Big Picture" everything was, and often those below were simply damned to their fate.

But that didn't mean they were ignored, half the time, according to history, that was the problem, especially in recent years. She had no clue what was going on up there for them to suddenly be proactive again, excessively in her opinion, but she hoped it wasn't the finale.

Letting out a sound of enjoyment as she set the bottle back on the table, she set her eyes to taking a measure of this woman before her.

From Mary's perspective, this young woman a messenger of the gods asked her to pick up was a right mess.

Looking her over, her hiking shoes were new judging by their condition, slogging through this place was probably easier with those on. A simple pair of blue jeans that was far from the worst choice at this time of year, although these days they made pants with insulation padding. Lastly, a buttoned flannel plaid shirt, A white shirt could be seen underneath at the neckline above the top button.

Altogether, not the worst dressed for something to go wrong in the wilderness at this time of year.

Sure, her clothes seemed a bit dirty, but it was in the eyes, that worn look in her eyes, that told the most. This girl had been through hell a bit, she thought.

"Yea, some chatty feller came by my neck 'a the woods and said a child was los' in the beyond. Said you were lookin' fer me, figured it made the most sense to just have me come get ya ma'self."

Reaching into a coat pocket she fished out a pair of cough drops and unwrapped one, tossing it into her mouth, and offered the other to Rita.

"Have a cough drop from an' old woman, you seem you could use one hun."