Naked to each other at last, they stand at the edge of the lea, looking towards the forest. They’ve come so far together. Her striped gown, cream and the color of her undone ginger hair, is marred by green at the hem from the walk here. His dark suit speaks of a formality belied by their embrace. They enfold each other as a sailor would cling to flotsam while awaiting a rescuer’s hand, afraid the hand might never appear. The woods are dark, faintly featured, even darker and less certain when compared to their path so far. They’re afraid to enter, afraid not to, while knowing one must occur.