Bitter tears flowed from Dorothy's eyes from hopelessness. She sat down on a hummock and looked with tired, reddened eyes in the direction where, in her opinion, the castle should be. She rubbed her cold, wet feet with her hands, trying to warm them up. What a pity that she didn't tell anyone in the castle where she was going. Now they won't catch her soon. Perhaps only in the morning, when she doesn't come down for breakfast. Apparently, she will have to spend this night here in the swamp. The tiny hummock, although not comfortable, still provided some protection. Dorothy began to wait with fear for the coming night. From all sides she heard ominous rustles and sounds, the croaking of frogs seemed unusually loud. Dorothy noticed two yellow lights in the dark foliage of the trees. She didn't know who they belonged to: a night bird or another snake. Perhaps this is just a figment of her tired imagination. Exhausted, Dorothy closed her eyes for a few minutes. She felt the cold rising from the swamp penetrate under her thin dress...