Better than Orpheus
Despite the bereginya's assurances that the flower wasn't that far, I grew more and more nervous as we ventured farther and farther away from the witches' camp. It was too late for now to retreat, though—I had some pride, and that pride made me grab my flashlight tighter and don't think about what could hide in the places it didn't light up.
"We are almost here, maiden. Look!" The bereginya pointed at something ahead with her long, pale hand, and a moment later I saw a pinprick of reddish light against the darkness. My eyes widened.
The light ahead twinkled, wobbling like a candlelight on the wind, as we walked towards it. In the darkness, I couldn't say how far it was—it could've been both a dozen steps or a five dozen—but it didn't feel like we were growing closer to it.