Children's Fiction
The stage beneath her began to turn, and then suddenly it was not a stage, but a carousel populated by wolves and wild dogs and other dark beasts. They were fixed in place on the carousel, and yet somehow they were alive, roaring and howling as the carousel spun faster and faster through the darkness. The bench she'd been sitting on had become a vicious hound. It yapped and growled as she clung to its black fur in terror.
There were a lot of things they should have done, Robin realized, as the cold formed an icy ball inside her chest. The emergency survival pack—why had she forgotten to grab that? She though miserably of all the things inside it—matches, a space blanket, a tiny stove... This was stupid. They should go back. People died of hypothermia in this kind of weather.
