What do you do when the devil comes for you?

Going to extend this so I have at least three posts in here

The birds flew, closer to the borders, closer and closer, before leaving the vicinity of the woods entirely. Despite that, Potema kept running. There was a chance that they could find a safer place than Blackfeather somewhere else to the south, where it wouldn't be flooded by swamp water of all things, where the trees would not be falling.

She kept her eyes on the flock, watching for any kind of sudden direction changes, and the location of the storm. Again, she wished she had a second eye. The strain of flicking one eye back and forth was tiring. But she kept on. They needed a safe place.