((This takes place while the world is still colorless.))
She clung to the jungle because it was one of the few places that still felt normal.
As it turned out, if the world was being stripped of almost all its colors and you could only pick one color to hold on to, and you happened to be a jungle, dark green was a pretty good color to pick. Everything around her glowed green: the leaves hanging overhead, the vines growing between the canopies, and the moss covering everything like a thick, furry blanket.
Only a few odd things here and there suggested anything was wrong. A curiously pale bird would fly by. A cracked log would show a gray interior. The water running in the stream was blacker than it should be.
But she kept her eyes straight ahead and pretended, just for a moment, everything was fine.