Ariannaemdgoestocreek

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You go toward the creek. Even if the monarch is not the same, there are bound to be others somewhere, and that seems a good place. Making it there, you see a flutter of four or five butterflies begin to move down the creek deeper into the forest. This is off any sort of beaten trail, but your boots make your way along just nicely, hopping from rock to rock with ease. The creek is hardly deep, and you find yourself having a good bit of fun.

Until the creek joins a practical river.

You do not even expect it. You are looking upward, following the water - even as the sounds get louder. You are keeping your eye on the monarch - are there two now? Surely there are! Your hand tightens on your net as you continue on, but there is a steep drop, and you fall into water.

It is not incredibly deep, and only a few feet wide. By any definition, it may even still be a creek, but it is fast and carrying you well. You fear it may eventually go toward some sort of waterfall, although there is no notably steep waterfall nearby. You struggle and grasp beside you, still keeping your hold on your net and bag. You feel yourself bounce up and down in the rocks, carried almost as fast as you could run down the way. The monarchs are out of sight, too. Before you can try and stand, as the water surely isn't too too deep, you are brushed against an overturned log. There is a sting.

There is a turn to the water, and you gather yourself against some smooth rocks. You feel for the sting, but find no blood - just some scratches. You take inventory of your net and your bag, happy to see them wet but still there. You begin to waft the net around to try and get it dry. A wet net would likely kill a butterfly.

You then see your own condition. You knew you would be sopping wet, but the log and the water rushing up against you actually tore away your sundress! Your slip is in disrepair, its wet condition clinging to your skin, outlining the facets of your toned legs, the curve of your butt, the soft roundness of your chest - even the area between your legs is pretty well indicated. You look around nervously, but note you are in the middle of the forest. It is a park, but there are not too many here now, especially this far off the track.

You note the slip is clinging for life against your skin, as there is a tear that occurred, likely where you got scratched by the log, in the small of your back, as well as an area under your right arm. It is rather small, but you remember it for later - you can save this slip, although the dress not so much.

You wonder actually about how to go home. A slip would probably be enough, and you are not too far, but in a mysterious area of the forest, you do not know where exactly you would end up! Not too far, really, but still, it was a good question.

Although, you also wanted to get those monarchs, still. If you made your way [[Ariannaemdgoesupstream| upstream], you would not only find the monarchs, but likely also what was left of your dress.

Status
Wearing Clinging slightly torn white slip, wet cotton panties, boots
Mood Nervous, unsure
Inventory Bag of boxes and pins, long scrap of dress, water bottle, wet butterfly catching net
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