The wind whispers on, a brisk gale out of the north; as the path continues on before you, you might hear a devilish cackle, a frightened shriek, and pained squeal. You might wince, or cry, or laugh, whichever is in your nature. In any case, you realize that there is not other option than to continue onward, and you must simply pray that you do not make a wrong turn.

Ciceron, Illynx, Kelec, Confutatis, and Ophelia go North and are met with no resistance. Eventually, they come to a fork in the road. Will they pause to consider the less treacherous path? From the West, the wolf's lonely howl reaches their ears again (has he moved?); but then it changes, and a pack's voices rise to join together in a hunt-song. From the East, an ominous groaning emerges. Which path will they take?

Luneia, Ghost, Amara, Africa, and Ranjiri go East and are met with no resistance. They, too, halt at a fork in the road, and are left to consider the North (which looks horribly dark, even at night) or the South (which glows with a sickly, blood-red sort of hue). Which path will they take?

Midas, Ampere, Kahlua, and Circe go West, and quickly come upon a dead end.

Midas, who has risen to the skies, is met with a most unfortunate cloud of purple, which tinges the previous normal colored parts of his pelt a brilliant violet. He is now an odd mixture of orange and purple.

Ampere, who has remained on the ground, begins to glow in the dark, perhaps to serve as a beacon for those around her, but perhaps only (as seems more likely) for the amusement of the maze.

Poor, unfortunate Kahlua follows along, but the other two are not longer within her sight. As Kahlua makes her way to the end of her row, a scarecrow ambles out of the stalks and, with an eerie grin, leaps onto her back, where it seems he is quite comfortable to stay.

A drunken Circe stumbles in her wake, though she cannot hope to keep up with those more sure-footed than she; a particularly nasty slip brings her far too close to a rather foul-tempered plant, which proceeds to let loose a nasty stream of black liquid as a deterrent. Unfortunately for Circe, the liquid is accompanied by a horrific smell, which now clings to her pelt.

The maze seems to laugh at their misfortunes.