Dorothy glanced at Gwendolyn, her expression growing concerned. "Miss, I'm starting to think we might be lost," she muttered, her voice shaky.
Gwendolyn nodded, feeling a cold knot forming in her stomach.
"We can't be," she responded, her voice trembling. "The fairy said the path was ours to choose. We're still on it."
"But how can we follow a path if we can't see it?"
The two girls walked in silence for a few moments, both of them feeling increasingly unsure of where they were headed.
They pressed on, though each step only deepened their fear and doubts, the forest's layout seeming to twist and distort around them. The shadows around them grew thicker, and the forest grew quieter, as if the creatures of the night were holding their breath, waiting to pounce.
"We should stop for the night," Dorothy suggested, her voice barely a whisper. "Maybe the light will return in the morning, and we'll be able to see the path again."
