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My head swims, downward, and the ceiling-sky seems to swim in the opposite direction. Its giggle solidifies into a voice and a grin.
"Stay on your feet. It wouldn't do to fall off the path yet."
"You may be able to stand comfortably on four feet of air, but I cannot." But I do manage to stand up.
"It's unlike you to complain when your work is cut out for you." My guide and goad disappears once more and leaves me to my thoughts -- flee from them. Dark coils that slow me down, cling to my arms and chew and nibble SLASH flee.
It will get worse, I know. Run straight ahead, run, scream to push them away; my knife lights my way through the loathsome jungle I cannot see, I can't bear to see, waving in front of me. After a while I close my eyes. The tall flowers hum, their voices like silver threads that form a web -- I slash again and slash, and the steel strikes useless sparks against their bodies. Forward. Please lift the curtain my knife will not part, lift the darkness that grabs at me with more hands than I can sever. Run. Straight ahead, straight away, away.
"Not away - you would have to run in circles for ever. Dogs are content to chase their tails, but I don't think it would suit you."
I stop short; there's no one here save myself and the Cat. Then it fades away; only the grin remains, on my face. I run forward.