She woke up on the verge of falling.
The cliff at her side was pitch-black, and the wind was howling against the rocks that formed the wall where she was standing, so she recoiled with fear before she remembered what was happening.
She got further away, still wobbly from her slumber and ran through the ruined land, her senses picking up how badly the disaster had wrecked the forest; the trees were broken in half,
fallen on the road and blocking the old paths that she knew, forcing her to improvise and imagine new ones,
and the soil was marked with gigantic footsteps that made the distressed Baker's wife feel as small as an ant.
She feared another meeting with the giantess and her earth-shattering steps, that had almost killed her - how many time ago? hours, days? Well, nevermind.
All that she knew was that the sun was setting, and that the woods looked much, much worse than the last time she remembered seeing them.
She knew she had to find shelter soon before night fell and the wolves got her.
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