Cheyenne looked around for something to cover herself with, but found nothing of use. Unless she could use her sewing skills to quickly weave a dress of wildflowers and tall grass—which would certainly be preferable to what she currently wore, but seemed wildly ridiculous at the present moment—she was pretty much out of luck.
She tapped a ragged pink fingernail against her chin as she pondered the long, green blades. Then she shook her head, ridding herself of the ludicrous notion. She could just see herself prancing about in a grass skirt. The idea was preposterous! Once again throwing her hands up in exasperation, she prayed the first person she encountered wasn’t a man.
Cheyenne started up the hill. But it was slow going. She slipped several times, grabbing hold of the ground to keep from sliding back down.
“Almost to the top,” she huffed, using handfuls of turf to pull herself upward. This hill-climbing thing was a little more difficult than she’d thought.
The ground vibrated beneath her fingertips as another grumble echoed in the distance. It seemed closer this time, and didn’t sound so much like thunder. It was…something else.
Surely thunder wouldn’t make the dirt shake. Would it? And besides, there isn’t a cloud in the sky. Cheyenne glanced up at the crystal blue heavens for verification.
If only she could get to the top, then perhaps she’d have a better idea of what was going on. Of course, she wasn’t so sure she wanted to know. Given her surroundings, she could be heading toward anything.
Suppose a herd of buffalo was barreling toward her. Or a three-headed monster was clambering up the other side of this very hill. Or maybe…
Stop it, Cheyenne. Her imagination was getting a little bit out of control.
Buffalos? Maybe. But monsters? Cheyenne mentally shook the craziness out of her head. Monsters didn’t exist. There had to be a logical explanation to all of this. She hoped.
