She stands there in defiance. She does not want to appear weak by choosing a path chosen by another. She has always been a brave soul, but one who would not allow herself to be shadowed by the accomplishments of others. And so, after the speak of Isra, Sloane knows which path she must take. She is called to take the fourth path, the darkness drawing her in like a light. But there is that flicker of defiance in her eyes and instead, it steers her down the third path.
She begins her trek down the third path. Her eyes nearly roll at the abundance of flowers. Why did she have to pick a path of flowers? They were not beautiful to Sloane, only the darkness could be categorized as such.
And then the path opens up and Sloane steps forward. The flowers have seemed to dull their colors, the birds and insects abandoning the path altogether. Was this supposed to scare her? Was she supposed to feel fear? She does not feel fear. She feels excitement. It has been some time since the wandering woman has done something this exciting. If anything, it will curb her boredom for a time.
It was then that a mare blooms from the abyss and Sloane cannot help but grin at her slyly. She can admire the woman’s muscle, the way her looks could kill. Perhaps this was not as lame of an adventure as she once thought it to be. But perhaps what she liked the most about this mare was the way she introduced her path of the maze. Offering no questions and not sugar-coating it at all. She liked it. And so, Sloane steps forward, ready to take on the maze.
Third Path
