In the town of Battle Mountain in Nevada, I encountered the Wooden Girl. In a conflict suitable of the place’s name I learned that I am not immune to the powers of the Fears. She in turn learned that any line that can pull one way can also be pulled the other and that while you might control one’s limbs be sure that their mind is not the more powerful muscle. I regret to say that she fell like a puppet with its strings cut as she faded from the world. Of course I use the word “regret” quite wrongly.