Bramblepoint Burn the Fleet [m]

She needed to leave this place.  The closer she was to the Caldera, the more sure she was that the witch's curse was real.  It had to be magic that had allowed her to dodge her, to snag her so easily.  It was the only explanation Kiwi could find to rationalize her own inadequacy, and it froze her to the core.  Almost more than the wind that ripped at her coat, a warning to a blizzard that would soon be tearing its way across the wilds.

Kiwi ran, but her stride didn't eat miles in the way it should have.  Her head was pounding and she regretted not pausing at the lake to drink.  There had to be water nearby.

She stopped and cast about for any sign of water before lowering her head to nose at the ground.  All the while unaware of the reckoning that was barreling towards her, against the wind, from behind.