Perception

"I write th□ following not in an attemp◻ to inspire sympat◻□, for I know I shall get none; nor as an apology for my actions, which I feel to be the best possible, give□ the circu□□◻ances I experienced and the state of mind in w◻□ch I exp□r□□□ced them; but rather as an expla□ation, s◻ould anyone care to know why an old m□n has done what he has done. To thos□ of you who h□□□ never he□□d of me, this may seem unnec□□sary; to those of you who kn□□ me, this □s lik□ly bey□□d ina◻□q□ate. ..."

An Autobi□□□aphical Ac□ount of my Life, Disc□veries, and the Misfortu□es that Foll□□ed Them, J.W. Ma□□◻□□□ (Preface)

---

Jasper surveyed the trees around him with mounting anxiety.

How he managed to get so lost in the familiar network of forest roads and shortcuts was beyond him. It was a semi-regular route, and he had memorized each stone and stray branch over the hours he spent on the path every month, trudging along drearily to deliver some inconsequential letter to the insufferable farmers and loggers who lived out of town. Or, at least he thought he had.

Did he take a wrong turn at the crooked boulder with the sapling growing out of it? Or was it the always-risky shortcut by the berry bushes? No, there would be more maple trees nearby if that was it. Why couldn't he remember? Was it the -- no, no, no, it was the godda -- er, blasted -- manor house down the eastern road! But if he left in the early morning and was going east, then why was the sun behind him? It was either almost sundown (somehow!) or he was completely turned around!

He kicked a tree in frustration, and it stared back at him menacingly, reproachfully. Its gargantuan friends crowded around it, looming miles above his head, bending over him, glaring through strands of moss.

Pine branches rustled angrily in the wind, and Jasper became aware of how intensely and deafeningly quiet the forest was. Suddenly, he felt very, very small.

He clutched his mailbag to his hip and his tweed cap to his head, and slowly began walking what he thought was east, his shoulders hunched and his head to the ground. He had to get somewhere.

Where does Jasper find himself next? What does he find there that might be of use?

An old well, no longer drinkable, overgrown with lichen and moss. The stones hold together only at the whim of the vines which cover it.

But the trail of beaten leaves leading away is not so old.

An old well, no longer drinkable, overgrown with lichen and moss. The stones hold together only at the whim of the vines which cover it.

But the trail of beaten leaves leading away is not so old.

"The trouble started, as always, in the woods. I found myself ever drawn to them, their nooks and shadows, their secrets, even as my industry scrambled for ever more inventive new ways of engineering their destruction. The old well was one of my first haunts; it was a perfect sitting-spot, and I often worked there instead of my office when I wished to be away from the noise and unwelcome company of the factory. It was at this well that I d̷evise̵̴d t̶̄h̴e e̴a̵̴̴̷rl̵̵̄ies̶t pr̄o̶to̵̷tȳ̴p̵̵̴̴̴e̵ ̷o̷̷f̵̷ th̴̷e̶ <Furiously scribbled out>, of which you should know well by now.

---

Aimlessly moving forward, constantly looking behind himself to make sure he was staying straight, trying to ignore the thought that this direction is just arbitrary anyway, Jasper walked. The ground grew slightly darker as he passed out of the small clearing, clambered down a ridge of mud and roots, and crept deeper into the woods. Sparse winter grass gave way to matted leaves and branches, and bare maples were soon crowded out by shadowy pines. Fighting back a perpetual urge to break into a sprint, he slowly kept onward.

Far ahead, in another grassy patch between the trees, was a weathered, dirty pile of rocks. Or, so it first appeared. The ancient well was not only crumbling and eroded, but it was also covered in small brown vines, giving it a dirty, almost hairy look. A sloping pile of dead leaves and dirt filled the shaft, nearly reaching the top of the bricks. And on the other side of the well was... a shoe. Hum.

It looked like a girl's dress shoe; black, rounded, with a single belt. Its owner was probably several years younger than him, but it was hard to tell; he had exceptionally large feet. Not a very good point of reference. Despite being encrusted in mud, it seemed fairly new, as far as he could tell. A once-white sock, now barely visible in a patch of thick mud, pointed toes first to a trail of muddy alternating foot-shoe prints. This... was something! This meant people!

Although, Jasper had a pretty good idea of who this might be. Frankly, he wasn't entirely sure if he was willing to deal with her right now. Especially now that the sky wasn't beginning to darken -- that meant either a storm or the night, and he didn't like either option.

Does Jasper continue going east (or, really, whatever direction he was going, since it was NOT the time he thought it was), follow the trail of muddy footprints, or stay at the well and find a way to wait out the storm/night?

SpoilerShow

This is my 3000th post! Hooray! Originally I was going to make a big Officequest Megaupdate, but I figured this story was more important to me in the long run.

It's best to find shelter. You can put up with her for now - at the least, more than the rain.

It's best to rest for now, but take note of the direction of the footprints. Use the shoe as a marker for their direction, in case the footprints are washed away in the rain.

Rest till the storm clears. But think of the possible reasons for the girl losing her shoe. Maybe it wasn't merely carelessness that caused her to leave behind one shoe?