When she awoke, Hannah was lying face up in a small puddle, about an inch deep. Her auburn curls clung wetly to her head, which felt bruised and sore, as did the rest of her body. It took her several moments to remember what had happened, and several more before she began to wonder where she was.
Hannah rose shakily to her feet, legs grumbling in protest, feeling as if they - or she - had been beaten soundly for hours by Principal Wernams. She looked around. She stood in what seemed to be an underground cavern, unlit except for a pale blue light emanating from the far side, around what appeared to be a corner in the rock. Behind her, the river came splashing down to the ground, where it coalesced into a small puddle and drained away into small holes in the earth, far too small for Hannah to fit through.
"This would never happen back in Curborough," said Hannah, and stared up at the source of the falling river, a tunnel in the rocky wall above her. "Ahh, great. How am I supposed to get out of here?"
No answer was readily supplied, so Hannah headed for the only other landmark, the pale blue light. Her body ached from collision with a thousand rocks and river edges, and dark vines seemed to reach out and grab at her feet - the mud had, at least, been washed away from her sneakers - but she made it to the end of the cavern, where the light was. It came from a small underground spring, water jumping merrily up out of the earth, sparkling in the blue light, and falling back down to be absorbed in the soil. It looked pure, and Hannah cupped her hands in it, letting some of the illuminated liquid pool between her hands.
Hannah lifted the water to her mouth and took an experimental sip, thirsty from the long jungle trek and the unknown length of time she had spent being carried by the river. The spring water was icy cold, but delicious, and Hannah began to feel her strength returning to her limbs. It wasn't Fizzbang Cola, but it made a pretty good substitute. She drank the last drops from her cupped hands, and wiped her mouth with the back of one, preparing to reexamine the cavern for means of escape.
Something caught Hannah's eye in the glowing blue spring, and she turned back to face it with reflexes born of years battling for bargains. Standing in the middle of the spring, where there had been nothing and no one previously, was a tall blonde woman, clothed in flowing green vines and with bracelets of finely carved wood. Her yellow hair flowed down her neck and shoulders like a waterfall, and her eyes shone with a brilliant green as she spoke to Hannah.
"Child," said the woman, "welcome."
"Where'd you come from?" asked Hannah, backing away slightly in distrust. From her experience, strange women calling her "Child" were usually religious freaks, showing up to preach about her sinful life, and urging her to follow some higher purpose. Hannah, meanwhile, had never seen anything wrong with the higher purpose of enjoying herself.
"I have always been here," said the woman, smiling. "I am Sylvia, the spirit of the jungle. Why do you hate me, child?"
"I don't know who you are," said Hannah, "never seen you before."
"Me the jungle. Tell me, why do you hate the jungle?" Sylvia's green eyes gazed into Hannah's puzzled countenance, silently persuading, bringing the words and explanations forth.
"It's so boring," said Hannah, "there's just nothing to do. All that happens is walking around and having to talk to my mother, who is such a total jerk. There's no CD player or magazines or anything."
"What of the birds and the beasts around you? What of the trees of the world, untouched and unbroken since the beginning of time? Do these things, that have inspired so many over the long years, hold no meaning for you?"
"Nah. They're just there, y'know? I can't do anything with them, not like at home." Hannah was surprised to find herself talking so freely, especially considering her strange situation, but there was something about Sylvia which compelled Hannah to talk.
The blonde woman raised her eyebrows. "Do anything? Are you an artist, then, child, or a musician? You have lovely fingers, you would do well, and make the world happy."
"I'm not into that sort of thing."
"A writer, then? Or an architect? What is it that these jungles fail to send to you?"
"I don't go in for that creative stuff," said Hannah, leaning moodily against the cavern wall. "I mean, these trees and birds and stuff, they're just plants and animals, I can't hang out with them or anything. There aren't any shopping malls or guys around here, just a bunch of green plants. How am I supposed to have fun here?"
Sylvia did not speak for several seconds, and when she did, it was another question and not a response to Hannah. "What you have told me," she said, "is most troubling. Tell me, child, is there any good to you? Do you care for aught other than yourself?"
Hannah thought about it for a moment, and gave the truth as answer, rather than the careful lie that would be employed against any other questioner. "I guess not," she said, and grinned cheekily.
Sylvia closed her eyes and looked downwards, saddened. "There is only one hope for you," said Sylvia, "that you begin life anew, as an animal of the jungle, until you learn to make yourself better. When you can make another human being love you for who you are, and not who you appear to be, then I will restore you to your human form."
"Okay," said Hannah, "so what am I going to be? A lion, or a deer, or...?"
Before she could finish her question, Hannah Brisk was gone from the cavern.

Sarah strode quickly through the jungle, every few seconds stopping to call out her daughter's name and wait hopefully for response. There was nothing. Hannah had been gone two hours now, having vanished from the spot Sarah had last seen her, leaving nothing but her backpack. Sarah was slowly beginning to give up hope.
Suddenly, there was a rattling sound, and a brown snake burst out from a nearby bush, tongue darting in and out angrily, body swaying from side to side as it slithered quickly towards her sandled foot. After a moment of shock, Sarah tore a branch from a tree and hit the snake hard with it, pounding it to the ground until the venomous serpent could not continue its deadly attack. Satisfied but shaking, Sarah continued in her hopeless search for her loving daughter.
Behind, Hannah the snake lay dying, having failed in her quest to make one human being approve of her. Her tongue flicked out one last time, one last drop of venom falling out into the world, before she lay still forever.