The three agreed on searching for some kind of insulation. They walked throughout the forest. By now they were used to being hungry, but all at once they realized that they were free now.

They collected blakcberries and such throughout the forest. Nary did one of the girls wonder why there were berries growing in the winter; the relished every bite. There was also a frozen river on their right, and whenever they needed water they just broke the ice with a large branch and drank straight from the river. It could be dangerous; who knew what was in that water? But they had no other option.

Days went by. Never once did they find a sign of other people, but they made spears out of bamboo (again, not wondering why it was there) and sharpened flint, and killed any rabbits and stoats they could find. They ate the meat and made clothes with the skin, using pine needles (which were, in this millenium, literally needles) and threads from their old clothes.

After about four days Sherri's condition had worsened greatly. She could barely keep up pace and, despit the animal skins and the few hours worth of dry firewood they managed to find, she was feeling very heavy in the chest and was having a hard time breathing. Also despite the extreme cold, she was feeling very hot. She was too afraid, though, of what her sisters' response would be if she told them. She could not deny, however, that she was very sick.

Days more passed. It was a week since their escape, and Chauntelle and Stacy were dragging Sherri on a mat of animal skins. Sherri was running a very high fever of one-hundred ten, yet she was constantly shivering. Chauntelle and Stacy made sure to keep her covered well with animal skins. By now they all had complete outfits, including boots (They were basically just skin bags, but it was better than nothing) and they had enough blankets (rabbits and stoats a-plenty) to keep themselves warm--including Sherri--but they did not know what to do about Sherri's condition. They soaked animal skins in the cold water of the frozen river and rested them on Sherri's forehead, but it only brought the fever down by one or two degrees.

There were many more, bigger caves in the side of the mountain, and each night as the sun was going down they made beds with the animal skins and searched for dry firewood. It was only every few days that they could find some, and that really didn't help Sherri out.

A few days more and Sherri went delirious. She said weird things. Stacy cried.

Chauntelle and Stacy were, understandably, frightfully worried about their sister. However, there was nothing they could do but keep her warm and keep wet rags on her forehead.

So they travelled on, hoping--for that was all they could do--that their sister would make it until they found adequite shelter.

It was only a day later that they came upon a log cabin. Chauntelle and Stacy wanted to run ahead, but knew they couldn't leave Sherri behind for even a little while. So they dragged her along as quickly as they possibly could.

When they got to the door and Chauntelle raised her knuckles to knock, the door opened. A very small grandma-type lady stood there. She couldn't have been more than two-and-a-half feet tall. She had her white hair in a bun, and her face was so intensely wrinkled that you could hardly make out her features. She held a cane and wore a red frock with yellow flowers under a dirty apron.

"Come in," she beckoned. "I've been waiting."