A seed head swayed atop a grass stalk as six spindly legs moved upward. The ant surveyed the bridge ahead of her - little more than a strand of elastic silk spanning a dry chasm.

"Do it, coward!" A disembodied voice echoed through the miniature landscape, its sound so large that the words were hardly discernible. The invertebrate would've raised an eyebrow if she had them. Whatever "big" person urged her onward had no way of knowing her reasons for hesitating.

The dizzying height wasn't the issue, nor was the fear that she'd plummet from the silken bridge. She remained perched between worlds, calculating odds. This was hardly the first new world she'd entered, and most likely would not be the last.

Her gut lurched as she was suddenly dragged out of her body by otherworldly forces. Transitions remained disorienting, as always. And now there were spiked flower buds to trim and steam, then ceramics to soak. Then back to the grass stalk and the uncrossed bridge.

Several more world shifts later, all connected worlds experienced a brief enough lull that the hexapod ventured across the gleaming strand toward the waiting unknown.