The tentacles hovered around her still-bound body for a few moments, as if deciding whether to ravish her further. Finally, however, she felt the appendages binding her arms and legs release her. Miraculously, they began to withdraw and disappear into the landscape. Without so much as a word of parting or acknowledgement, they retreated, the grass around them mostly obscuring their forms as they moved, although the ominous rustling sound of their slithering could still be heard for several minutes. Then, finally, there was silence, and the girl was alone.

Through her haze of exhaustion, Ginger was only half aware of the tentacles' withdrawal. As she lay on the ground, gradually getting her strength back, she eventually realized, at least subconsciously, that it wasn't coming back. Had anything else come along, however, she'd have been trivially easy prey; fortunately, the chances of that happening were ridiculously low, and her luck wasn't anywhere near bad enough that day.

How long she lay there, she couldn't say; she was pretty sure that she blacked out briefly once or twice before she felt strong enough to move again. By that time, the sun was starting to set, and it was pretty clear to her that there was no way she could use what remained of her clothes to provide even a vague impression of modesty. Still, she couldn't stay here all night, and she was pretty sure she could get to safety without too much difficulty if she was lucky. Gathering her things, she started back down the path she'd taken to get here, hoping she could make it to her destination without anyone—or anything—else seeing her.