She took Ray back a different way than they'd come. She stopped a few times to gather more wildflowers and weave them into a crown. He asked, "Who are you making that for?" Her eyes grew distant, and she smiled and said, "My true love fair." Ray didn't ask any more questions after that. They came to a place where three paths intersected. Down one of the paths, a jackhammer went t-t-t-t-t-t.

"This is my stop," Ray said. He tried to think of something else to say, but his molars were already starting to bounce around his gums, and all he managed was: "Man, I hate that noise."

"Not as much as I do," she said. Her eyes grew distant again, and she furrowed her eyebrows. The jackhammer sound cut off abruptly.

Ray smiled and said, "I guess he heard us."

"I guess so," she said.

"Listen," Ray said, "I know I don't even know your name-"

"I told you," she said.

"Please just let me finish," Ray said. "I know you've got a ... you know." He pointed to the crown meant for her true love fair.

"A crown?" she said.

"It doesn't matter," Ray said.

"Yes?" she said.

Ray said, "You're cool and so weird and beautiful and you smell amazing and—oh god, Byron would slap me if he heard me talking like this." He scrunched his eyes shut and palmed his forehead.

"You're very sweet," she said. "Is Byron your boss? I won't let him hurt you."

"Never mind him," Ray said. "I want to see you again. That's all I'm trying to say. I would regret not asking for the rest of my life."

"You might regret asking for the rest of your life," she said.

"You're teasing me," Ray said.

"I have," she said. "And I will again. It's fun. But I am not teasing about this."

Ray had seen this look before. Not when she had spoken of her friend who had died of cancer, but earlier. It was pain, or guilt, or sorrow.

"You might regret-" she said.

"No," Ray said. "I won't. I can't see the future, and neither can you, but regret is a choice."

She smiled and said, "Oakenheart, after all. But I did warn you."

"You and the deer," Ray said. "Why is everyone trying to protect me?"

"You are innocent," she said.

"That's not true!" Ray said. "I went to this party in college..."

"Let me show you," she said. She pressed her hand, and her body, into his chest. His heart ran a tin cup along his ribcage. Oak, sure.

"What are you doing?" Ray said.

"Close your eyes," she said. He obeyed. Her fingers climbed up his arms and neck like vines climbing a trellis. She traced his hairline, caressed his ears, and rested her hands on the back of his neck.

The wind rustled pine needles overhead and the grass at his feet. The sounds reminded Ray of the voices of his family. A bird perched nearby; a belted kingfisher, crowned with a shaggy crest and banded in white and blue as though dressed for a state dinner. Ray knew this without seeing. A beetle ran like Errol Flynn along precarious mushroom balconies jutting from an oak stump. Butterflies stretched their wings, greedy for more sunlight, and the sun obliged. T-t-t-t-t-t went a distant woodpecker.

She guided Ray's hand to her lower ribs. Through the fabric of her dress, he felt them rise as his fell and fall as his rose. They breathed each other's breaths until every other sound faded into memory. He slid his arms around her waist until his hands cupped his elbows, and pulled her to him.

"You can open your eyes," she said. He did. She wore a beatific smile, and her eyes were absinthe.

"You can hear it," she said. Her lips parted slightly.

"I can't hear anything else," Ray said. A snapping twig made a liar of him. He turned to look and her lips glanced off his jawline. Something snarled an ugly, mucous-y snarl.

"Look out!" Ray said. He pulled Dread Girl behind him. A beast covered in yellow-brown fur charged out of the brush and slammed into Ray's chest.

"No!" Dread Girl said.

"Ahh!" Ray said, in a higher pitch than he would have liked. He covered his face with his forearms and kicked out blindly. The creature bit his shoe and shook his leg from side to side. Ray flailed for something to hold to prevent the creature from dragging him away. His hands closed on Dread Girl's leg.

"Wow," he thought. "Run!" he said. Reluctantly, he let go of her ankle.

"No!" she said.

"You have to!" Ray said.

"Bad!" she said.

"Bad?" Ray said.

"Let him go," she said. The creature released Ray. Ray opened his eyes. Some idiot had given a smart car a fur coat and fangs.

"It's okay," she said. "He's just a dog." The beast slinked over to his mistress and flopped out beside her. It had a broad, well-muscled chest and short, powerful legs. The hair on its back grew in a ridge.

"Just a dog?" Ray said. "That thing's the size of a-"

"Of a what?" she said, helping Ray to his feet.

"A large dog," Ray said, confused. The dog had seemed much larger when Ray was flat on his back and afraid of being devoured. But it couldn't weigh much more than sixty pounds.

"Sorry," she said. "He gets jealous." The just-a-dog yawned, revealing large yellow fangs that Ray had initially mistaken for a boar's tusks.

"What is he," Ray said. "Part pit-bull?"

"He's a sweetheart," she said. "That's all that matters. He won't bite you." She knelt and kissed the dog on the nose.

Ray inched closer to the dog and said, "He's friendly?"

"He won't bite you," she said. Ray inched away.

"I rescued him," she said. "Aren't you going to ask his name?"

"I thought you said names don't matter," Ray said.

She crossed her arms and said, "That's not what I said."

"What's his name?" Ray said.

"Rex," she said.

Ray took a deep breath and extended his hand. Rex bared his teeth.

"I'm Ray," Ray said. "Shake?" Rex growled.

"I'm glad he likes you," Dread Girl said. "He's a good judge of character."

"You think he likes me?" Ray said.

"You're still breathing, aren't you?" she said. "Rex, honey, I brought you a present."

Rex sat and wagged his tail. Dread Girl removed the flower crown from her wicker basket.

"He's your true love fair?" Ray said.

"Obviously," she said, placing the crown upon Rex's brow. It slid down his head, covering one eye.

"I thought you meant something else," Ray said.

"Didn't slow you down any," she said.

"Yeah," Ray said.

"You look like a cyclops, silly," she said, straightening Rex's crown.

"No," Ray said. "He's too noble. He looks like the King of the Woods."

Rex shook the crown off his head, ran behind Dread Girl, and whimpered. She sighed.

"What did I say?" Ray said.

"That tongue of yours is going to get you in trouble," she said.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Ray said.

"I know," she said. She whispered something into Rex's floppy ears. The beast bolted into the forest.

"Oakenheart," she said. "I need you to stop talking without thinking and start acting without thinking."

She traced little circles on his chest. Ray's eyes widened. She licked her lips. His arms stiffened; he pulled her close with all the grace of a scarecrow at junior prom. She raised her eyebrows. He swallowed.

She nodded slowly.

He kissed her. How long they held the kiss, Ray could not say. Time had a way of stopping around her. But after what seemed like a long while, though not long enough, she wedged her hands between them and pushed. Ray broke off the kiss immediately.

"Finally!" she said. She shoved him against a tree, hard enough to shake the branches, and leapt upon him.