Xylophobia

The scent of pine surrounds you. Hitchhiking seed pods have curled their gnarled hooks into the fabric of your clothes. Small nicks and scrapes from thorny bushes cover your hands. As your vision wavers back into clarity and adjusts to the low light of the setting sun, you pause. A bird calls to your left. Rustling leaves draw your attention to your right. Spinning around in a full circle reveals …