Sleep was not Catskill’s friend that night. She couldn’t remember resting at all, only tossing and turning. Amanita must not’ve slept well either; Catskill heard infrequent whimpers from her sleeping bag. And to top it all off, when the sun finally rose, Catskill felt sick to her stomach. She staggered out through the door to the street, wobbled around to the back of her house, and puked. Twice. Maybe the ritual healing wasn’t so great after all, or maybe the bandages around her trunk needed to be changed. She’d have to ask Amanita.