"When you're lost in the woods, stop moving."

So this is what it had come to. She was about six hours too late for that, arrogance and panic combining to create a deadly cocktail that had grasped her from within, and recklessly put one foot in front of the other until she was alone, stranded, confused, and hopelessly lost.
She'd read books about this. Seen horror stories on the news. And yet, they hadn't prepared her for her own hike, her own little detour off the gravel path just for a moment to capture the beauty of an errant mushroom growing at the base of a tree.
"What a stupid way to die," she thought to herself, "Floundering about in the woods like an inexperienced hiker. How could this have happened to me?"
There was a sound behind her, or rather a distinct lack of sound, punctuated by the snapping of a twig. She turned around.
The bear stared at her, not menacingly, just with the same amount of interest as she herself displayed when restlessly opening the refrigerator door.
"Oh, I see," she thought. "This is an equally stupid way to die."