The Witch of the hill!

The Witch of the hill!

Crouched in her haggardly hut held aloft by junglefowl talons, her eyes burn with baleful light, reflected from the town burning across the river.

She gazed across the burning landscape, trying to piece together how this had all happened. Gerald, her flying house's carrier bird, suggested that it was the volcano that had

started everything, but she couldn't help but think that the earthquakes had caused more damage. She might be biased though. Ryan did die when

Yellowstone erupted, burying roughly three states under lava and ash, and darkening the skies over the entire continent with toxic volcanic ash. An ignoble end for Ryan, she

thought as she walked away from the eruption without looking back; like a badass. Ryan had been a distraction. He'd served his purpose and it had been a mistake to keep him around.

She had bigger fish to fry. She wrestled a swordfish (bigger than Ryan) from the ocean, placed it on a pike, and roasted it over the volcano. This fed her village for the entire

five seconds after it was grilled. The villagers were still hungry. “More grilled swordfish!” they chanted. Seeing that no fish and almost no tartar sauce would incite a riot, she

gun and shooted to her husband's head