He watches in horrid fascination as she stretches languorously, arms reaching upwards as if to grasp the skies. Then she bends at the waist to touch her feet, runs questing hands over ankles and up her legs. And, as she laughs, her voice cracks as if unaccustomed to use. Its sound chills him and he shivers as she straightens and begins to look around. As her gaze sweeps the bushes where he lies huddled upon the ground, he presses his face against the grassy earth, willing himself to be invisible.
Long moments pass.
When he raises his head again, she is gone. He lies there for perhaps another half an hour before rising reluctantly. He does not want to encounter her in the dark, naked and unarmed. He does not want to encounter her, at all. The walk to the tree is a long and unsettling one.