The Cursed Witch Hunt. (This is an extremely small excerpt, so excuse any contextual confusion or terms that seem to have no meaning. Enjoy!) "I am alive," Leah repeated to herself. She held a machete in her hand as she walked down the dirt road. Monstrously huge trees towered either side of her, their trunks no thinner than thirty feet in diameter. Maybe one day she'd build that tree house she'd always wanted. If nothing else, Eclipse's Shadow offered interesting opportunity. To the artistic mind there lay a canvas for the likes of Leah to paint on, and so she painted. "I am alive," she said once more. Gunfire raked the three-dimensional wall of trees that blocked her from the highway that ran parallel to the path she walked. These excursions were normality for her; every few months there was another caravan on its way through the Shadow. Ahead, there stood two winged figures, they stared at her with their #lifeless eyes as she fearlessly stayed her course. Leah spread her own wings as she neared the Seraphs. They regarded her without expression, but she fluttered her white wings and dropped into as graceful a curtsy as one can manage in a pair of jeans, with one hand clutching a machete. "Speak, half-breed," said the Seraph on the left. Its voice rolled through her mind like distant thunder. Its mouth did not move as it spoke, nor did it flutter its wings as she did hers. "The Wringers, where did they fall?" she asked. "I seek the Moonlit Witch." As the name proceeded from her lips, the Seraphs' wings spread wide and claws extended from their fingertips. She smirked. Nobody was without a sandman, a devil to haunt their dreams. Only Leah remained fearless, for she'd gone through the flames and let the fear, agony, and weakness burn away. The Seraphs stood still, fearing to move, lest the Witch emerge from the trees and cut away their wings. "Need I call upon the Scarecrows for answers?" shouted Leah. "The dead Wringers, where are they?" The volume of her voice attracted the attention of search lights and machine guns from the caravan. Neither of the Seraphs paid the gunfire any mind, but they cowered before the fury in Leah's voice. "North of the Scar, my lady!" cowered the Seraph. "The apostate seeks refuge with the natives!" Its voice changed in tone, but no terror showed in its face; indeed it remained expressionless. "Thank you for your minimal effort," she said dryly. As she moved to pass by them, the Seraph who'd been silent suddenly spread its wings. Leah stopped in her tracks and looked over at the Nightmare. "You, a half-breed, treat us as underlings. Do not dare to tread on us so," it said. "Would you threaten a Crow?" she challenged. "Touch me and commit apostasy, for my wings were taken from one of your dead." Machete in hand, she passed by the Seraphs as they stood there restraining themselves. Leah smirked and flared her wings as she grew close to them. They both backed away from her, for she was condemned by every law of the Eclipse. She continued down the road, dirty white wings still spread wide for all to see. The wind at her back coaxed her. 'Run, jump, fly,' it seemed to say. Who was Leah to refuse? She took off at a sprint and threw herself skyward. Her wings caught the wind and dragged her upwards. She soared some height above the path and let herself glide towards the Scar. Things felt right in the sky, it was the only place of solace for her. Purebred human shelters were cramped, her wings would ache if she went hours without stretching them. Between the treetops and the stars, she was free, free as she'd never been before. And yet she flew towards the witch who'd cursed her with flight. It was the principle, she decided; a curse was a curse, no matter what the bearer made of it. Leah was far from the only witch hunter in Eclipse's Shadow, though, and she knew it all too well. The thrill of the race, like hounds on a fox hunt- that was what made her feel alive. Unfortunately for many, feeling alive was far from a common luxury. Houses lay scattered on the ground below her, some were burned, others were battered, as though they'd been repeatedly slammed into by a truck. 'Oh well,' she thought. 'The smart ones don't live here anymore.' She looked out in front of her, rather than survey the ground further. Treetops, stars, and clouds all met at a hazy horizon some impossible distance away, and she found herself wanting to fly higher. Leah threw herself into an upward spiral and felt the warm night air flow around her. She shut her eyes and let herself drift.