Chapter 8
by 
dangerslut
We just walk for what seemed like ages.
I'm about to give up when I hear the thud.
I spin around and Emma is face down in a puddle of mud. She lets out some kind of a squeak after she hits the ground and grabs her ankle.
I stare down at her. Her face is caked in mud, skirt is torn and hair is full of twigs and leaves. She gives me those big doe eyes. Now we've got to find some place to spend the night. Em isn't going far.