Arrival (Logan)
Storm clouds notwithstanding, it had been a perfectly lovely morning on the tropical island Giselle was fast learning to call her home. The afternoon was shaping up rather nicely, too, she thought, as she pushed deeper into the thickness of the leafy jungle before her, a basket looped over one arm.
"Oh, thank you," she said sincerely, when her guide swept back a low-hanging branch for her to step under. But just as she did, the ground began to rumble. Giselle caught her balance on the nearest tree, but only briefly, only just before the rumbling turned into an all-out violent churning. She shrieked and tried to keep her feet under her, but it was of no use.
She found herself on her knees, arms over her head, trying to protect herself from anything that might fall. Terror consumed her breath and kept her silent, even if the ground itself seemed to want to shake her screaming loose.
The shaking stopped abruptly. When she opened her eyes, she was kneeling in the center of a smoothly-paved street, surrounded with great castles of glass and flat, seamless stone. Astonishment painted her face.