Deb’s bat-clumsy approach tilted and squirmed until she touched-down on the limb, a hundred feet up. Her fingernails clawed into the trunk’s crevices as she slowed her momentum and managed to stop. Deep gasps of air burned her throat as she embraced the cinnamon colored, craggy wood.

The relief of the landing was quickly replaced by the awkward realization that she was now stuck in a tree. This branch was the lowest, but still too high to jump down from.

The only sounds were her own labored breaths and the heavy drumming of her heart. She couldn’t hang on here forever. The night was not warm by any means, but Deb could feel her skin’s radiant moist heat as it caught the chill in the air— truly a cold sweat. The scratchy wood’s slight scent of vanilla mocked her.

Deb’s feet were longer than the branch was wide, so her toes hung over. Shifting her weight, she felt the branch flex. She froze. She had to force herself to think and breathe. A frigid wind howled passed her. A cracking sound scratched at her ears as the branch abandoned her feet. The ground was her new destination.