 The garden is at its most beautiful just before the sun comes up. It's as good a place as any to say goodbye to someone you love. It's hard to believe that this was just a landfill. The fungus has been feasting for 100 years now. The world is healing. The feedback from the fungus is strange, but nice, and gives me something to focus on besides Enid. Can't pretend it doesn't muck me up inside knowing this is goodbye, but what right have I got to be angry? Life out there scares me. Enid's never spent more than a few years in the enclaves. She prefers to travel in packs with the others like her. Hound mutants. She feels wrong to call Enid after a dog, but it's her preferred term for folks born with PK pathology. She came out of the womb craving metal, paper, plastic. Her body processes it and turns it into usable waste. In the old days, before we had fungus to eat the trash, hound mutants were rounded up to clear the landfills. That's illegal now in the enclaves. It's not perfect here, but it's safe. When she first came to our enclave, she told me about what it was like out there. Open road, open field, open forest. The ruins of cities and suburbs. Wild animals. Maybe that's why I fell for her. This woman who walks so fearlessly across the lines and borders and limits. All the things I'm scared to do. She wants me to come with her. Says there's so much she wants to show me. So many different ways we could live. I want to. I want to be like her. But I've never been that brave. When she's out there, is this all she'll remember of me? The girl who lived her whole life too scared to step a foot outside the lines? I grew up thinking this was paradise compared to the Outer Wilds. But how can it be paradise without her? Wait! I'm coming with you.
 The garden is at its most beautiful just before the sun comes up.
 It's as good a place as any to say goodbye to someone you love.
 It's hard to believe that this was just a landfill.
 The fungus has been feasting for 100 years now.
 The world is healing.
 The feedback from the fungus is strange, but nice, and gives me something to focus on besides Enid.
 Can't pretend it doesn't muck me up inside knowing this is goodbye, but what right have I got to be angry?
 Life out there scares me.
 Enid's never spent more than a few years in the enclaves.
 She prefers to travel in packs with the others like her.
 Hound mutants.
 She feels wrong to call Enid after a dog, but it's her preferred term for folks born with PK pathology.
 She came out of the womb craving metal, paper, plastic.
 Her body processes it and turns it into usable waste.
 In the old days, before we had fungus to eat the trash, hound mutants were rounded up to clear the landfills.
 That's illegal now in the enclaves.
 It's not perfect here, but it's safe.
 When she first came to our enclave, she told me about what it was like out there.
 Open road, open field, open forest.
 The ruins of cities and suburbs.
 Wild animals.
 Maybe that's why I fell for her.
 This woman who walks so fearlessly across the lines and borders and limits.
 All the things I'm scared to do.
 She wants me to come with her.
 Says there's so much she wants to show me.
 So many different ways we could live.
 I want to.
 I want to be like her.
 But I've never been that brave.
 When she's out there, is this all she'll remember of me?
 The girl who lived her whole life too scared to step a foot outside the lines?
 I grew up thinking this was paradise compared to the Outer Wilds.
 But how can it be paradise without her?
 Wait!
 I'm coming with you.