FADE IN: EXT. HIGHWAY 11, NORTHERN MINNESOTA, DAWN The sun is not up yet. The sky above the tree line is the color of a bruise fading, deep purple giving way to a gray-green that will become gold in forty minutes. The road runs perfectly straight through a corridor of birch and aspen, their trunks white in the pre-dawn light. VERA COLE (36) drives with one hand. She is lean, practical in the particular way of people who spend months a year outdoors doing physical work. Her hair is pulled back without ceremony. She wears field clothes, well-worn, the specific garments of someone who has figured out over years exactly what she needs. [Full 19,814-word screenplay available after purchase. Literary dark fantasy. 110 pages. A cartographer discovers a forest that moves.]1