We hurried down the dormitory stairs, nearly bumping into a few students who were rushing up to see what all the commotion was about. The moment we stepped outside, the cool morning air hit my face, but it did little to calm the unease growing in my chest.
Students from every direction were already gathering around Pix.
She was crying.
A couple of girls supported her by the shoulders while another wrapped an arm around her waist, keeping her steady. Someone had draped a blanket over her despite the clear weather, and her clothes were covered in dirt, leaves, and dried mud. Scratches lined her exposed skin, and her hair was tangled as though she had wandered through the wilderness for days.
"Pix!" one of the girls cried, throwing her arms around her. "You're alive!"
"We thought..." another whispered before breaking into tears.
