Clotho held her cloak tight to her body, as she weaved through the forest path. The brambles of the trees and shrubs tested them... scratching at their bodies as they moved down the path.

Each time a scratch makes it mark -- a fear is emerged from their memories.

And at the back of the pack... Angel, Buffy and Wes are finding it nearly impossible to follow the rest of them.

"Down the path we go..." Clotho sings to herself softly. "Into the heart of madness."