Swinging her trusty chunk of driftwood over her shoulder, Branwen had to decide which way to start hiking.

I don't know where north is on this planet, she thought. But the zombie came from up the beach, so I'm not going in THAT direction. Maybe if she found some high ground, Branwen could get a better idea of where to look.

With the sharp edge of her chunk of flint, Branwen marked the bark of trees with an X every dozen trees or so. Hopefully, she'd be able to find her way back to the beach if necessary. While she walked through the forest, Branwen looked for anything edible. Fresh water might be nice too; her mouth felt like she had licked the sheep from this morning.

Branwen thought that the trees looked an awful lot like maple trees from earth. Here and there she saw a tree that looked something like a birch. She tried to remember more of her Girl Guide learning; what might be edible? There were mushrooms here and there under the trees, some brown, some red with white spots. Weren't red and white mushrooms supposed to be poisonous? She couldn't remember. She gathered up a few of each and stuffed them in her pockets. After walking for a while, she heard the sound of running water, and ran gratefully towards a small stream.

Branwen dropped her driftwood and cupped her hands and drank eagerly. The water was cool and tasted fine. There were probably fish in the water... if only Branwen had some string, she could make a fishing rod. Well, string and a hook. And bait. And a bobber. Aw, forget it, that wouldn't work.

Branwen pulled a brown mushroom out of her pocket, and carefully nibbled a bit of the cap. She waited to see if she would start seeing wonderful colours. Nope, nothing. She nibbled a little more. The mushroom tasted mushroomy. Her tongue didn't seem to be swelling up; she wasn't dead yet. Branwen figured the brown mushrooms were most likely safe to eat. Now it was time to try the red and white one.

Gingerly, Branwen held her tongue against the mushroom cap. Nothing happened. She tried a small bite of the edge of the cap; it tasted rather good actually. Weren't poisonous things supposed to taste bitter? In fact, it would taste really good combined with the other mushroom. She broke the red mushroom cap up and mixed it with some broken bits of brown mushroom. Mushroom salad! Too bad she had to eat it off the ground... ah well, a little dirt never hurt anyone. The mushrooms were pretty tasty, but not very filling. Branwen needed to find some real food fairly soon.

Now what? Branwen's feet already hurt; flip-flops were not exactly the greatest hiking gear. She snapped a green branch off one of the birch-like trees and used her sharp-edge flint to trim off the leaves and small twigs while she sat and rested. The bark peeled off the wood, just like a real birch tree. Experimenting, Branwen carefully cut a sheet of birch bark off the trunk of the tree.

If I'm here to stay, I'm going to need to make shelter, Branwen thought. And proper shoes. And tools... tools would be good.

Branwen growled and threw the sheet of birch bark. It fluttered harmlessly to the ground a few feet away.

"I don't know anything about making tools!" Branwen yelled into the trees.

"Maaaaaaaaaa?"

"What the?" Branwen said, whirling around. It was her sheep. Apparently it had decided to follow the weird tree-climbing human. The sheep trotted over to her and head-butted her. Branwen fell over onto the grass.

"Stupid sheep," Branwen muttered, picking herself up, but she stroked its wooly head anyway. The sheep sniffed at the remains of Branwen's mushroom salad, and happily ate some of it.

"Hmmmm, I bet there's a few lamb chops on YOU," Branwen said appraisingly. The sheep gave her a glare that dared her to try it. "Ok, ok, I didn't mean it." Branwen carefully reached out and scritched the sheep behind the ears. The wooly creature seemed to forgive her, and leaned against her.

"Good gawd, you're shedding EVERYWHERE," Branwen said, picking strands of wool off her t-shirt. "Hmmm." Branwen rolled the strands of wool between her fingers. They formed a short, thick, lumpy string. "Hmmmm..." Branwen said again, playing with the wool. She pulled the string tight, stretching it and thinning it out a bit. She rolled it between her fingers again, smoothing out the lumps.

"I think we can do something with this, sheep. If you don't mind me giving you a bit of a haircut."

"Maaaaaaaaaaaa," the sheep answered contentedly.

"You need a name, I can't keep calling you 'Stupid Sheep.' How about Lumpy?" Lumpy the sheep laid down beside Branwen and relaxed until he started to snooze.

"Well, that will make it easier," Branwen said quietly, as she carefully cut some of the thick wool from Lumpy's back with the sharpened piece of flint.