"I can hear the skin cracking..."
From just a few metres away, her skin looked luminous but as he got closer he saw the patterns beginning to emerge; tiny microscopic figures dancing in the whorls and eddies, fauns and tabuls forming spindles and breaks in the creases of her skin as she moved; miniature Pans skipping across each other, tiny lights blinking from across the bay.
"I never did believe..."
He looked closer, ran his tongue down her spine, flicking off the creatures that spun there. She arched her back and a little procession, with the Death's Head and a Summer Queen leading the pipe-players, began to weave it's way homeward, as if the earthskin itself was begging questions which they all needed to answer.
"I have a Renault," he said but by then it was too late.