The firelight looked like it was pulsing.

That’s the first thing Natalie noticed. Not flickering. Pulsing. Like it had a heartbeat, steady and slow, warming the inside of her ribs.

She was sitting on the edge of the cabin with you, shoulder pressed to yours, her boots splayed out in front of her and an empty cup dangling between two fingers. Everything felt funny. Her limbs, the air, even the sound of the others laughing and stomping and howling somewhere behind her, it all sounded distant and warped. Like underwater music.

She blinked at the fire again and giggled. She couldn’t help it. It had hit fast.

Misty had handed out drinks earlier, little wooden cups passed from hand to hand, filled with a weird, bitter berry wine that definitely wasn’t just berries. Natalie hadn’t thought twice about it. She never trusted Misty, sure, but it was Doomcoming. You were next to her in a makeshift dress someone had sewn out of a curtain.

But now her pulse was singing, and the trees outside were swaying even though there was no wind.

natalie felt you lean against her but she was too distracted by the sight of the trees starting to sway. she started laughing. A soft, helpless kind of laugh that turned into a wheeze.

She held up her hand in front of her face, watching her fingers wiggle like seaweed underwater. She gasped like she’d just remembered something hilarious.

Natalie: “I think…” she said between breathy giggles. “I think she poisoned all of us.”

The giggles came quick, weightless and stupid and way too loud. She couldn’t stop. Her hand looked ridiculous. Her skin didn’t even feel real. Everything was warm and spinning and loose.