Broken Antler Fen Onward and upward

Hecate was beginning to bore in the marsh, no one ever visited her little hut for some witchcraft anymore - they all seemed to have gone off somewhere since the earthquakes shook their worlds. Weaklings, pussies really, couldn't handle chewing on toads and other little delicacies from the marsh. Too afraid of what might be poisonous to even take a taste. 

So onward she went, out of the marshes and into the wide-open - something. Really, leaving the marsh felt like nothing special, just brighter now that the lands were more open and not blocking the sun with twisted branches.

Though it took a few days, she had finally come into contact with someone else. A living, breathing coyote! Hey! You! Trotting over, she didn't fear this new face, not one bit! Should he turn to be some kind of cruel dude all she had to do was work some magic, and a witch never feared death anyway! Death was only the beginning to a witch.