Willow set off around midday, leaving a still sleeping Wilson at the camp. Fashioning a kind of sling from the old poncho, she stored a few pieces of meat. She grabbed up a spear, and set out, ready to face the world. She walked for twenty minutes before it hit her. It was freezing cold. Icy, even. It hadn't exactly been warm yesterday, but Willow was shivering with every step. She grabbed the first pieces of Flint she found on her trek and stuffed a bunch of leaves down her top.

She slammed the Flint together in her shivering hands, lighting the foliage up in seconds. She sighed as the warmth filled up her chest, her face obscured by the smoke. For some reason, her clothes didn't burn. She'd not noticed it before, but even when she'd leaned over the fire, they wouldn't catch. She pulled at the dress fabric, running it through her hands. She could feel nothing different, but that could have been her fingers going stiff and numb.

She grabbed more leaves and wrapped them around her feet with twine. From there, she set about lighting a fire inside her shoes. The sensation was glorious, such a contrast to the icy wind on her face. She dropped to her knees, trying to bring her body into the warmth, breathing in the smoke. In minutes, she wrapped all her regular clothing around the satchel, shielding it from the flames that now engulfed her body.

Willow could hardly see straight for the smoke and the intoxication of flames. She was at least trying to walk, but she staggered about on the stony ground like a drunk. She didn't notice when she left the forest and wandered out onto cracked, waterless dirt. She didn't see the outcrop of boulders, towering above her like wannabe mountains. She certainly didn't see the huge ball of black fur sitting atop a straw nest. But the ball saw her.

This ball of fur didn't quite know what it was looking at. Out of nowhere, a creature that was nothing but smoke and fire appeared. It danced about the cold earth, giggling witlessly to itself. The ball tried to ignored it, but the creature was so odd, and getting too close. The fur ball felt the warmth of its egg beneath it, the egg it needed to protect. The fire creature was so close that the ball could smell the noxious scent of burning evergreen.

A bit of ash dropped away from Willow's face, and she looked out onto the landscape. Just in time to see the ball of fur unfurl two long legs and rocket into the air. Up, up, up it went. Willow stared as a beak appeared from underneath the fur. A glassy yellow eye the size of Willow's head fluttered open and stared back at her. There was a beat of silence, save the crackling of fire, where the two strange creatures beheld one another.

Willow tried to back up, but the bird screeched and charged. In four massive strides, it was on her. Willow dived out of the way as its beak slammed into the dirt. A plume of smoke caught the creature in its eye, and it screeched again. Willow fumbled inside her sling, clutching the spear as the furry thing shook the smog from its face. It charged again, and Willow was ready this time. She held the spear aloft, trying to catch the beast on its way down. The bird was smarter than that, and bobbed its head to the side to avoid the spear, stabbing into her foot. Willow screamed as its beak pierced her toe, and the bird screeched as a burning bramble poked it in the eye.

It's eye was going blood red now, making this horrific monster even more demonic. Willow had seconds to dodge beneath its legs as it tried to peck again. She slashed at its legs, catching the spear against bone. The bird kicked backwards, raking its claws along the brambles. Lucky for Willow, it didn't get through her armour.

The monster used the kick to push itself around to face Willow, but Willow stabbed at its leg again. The spear sailed past the side of its rake thin limb. The slash caused Willow to over-commit, and the bird drove its beak into her back. Again, Willow screamed, and again, the monster burned. The furry creature took too long to bring its head back, and Willow took advantage. She buried the spear into the bottom of its head. No bone, no resistance, the spear ran the bird right through, piercing from the eye out to the other side.

The eye burst, and an outpouring of blood splashed atop Willow. The blood sizzled and caught, sending a great tongue of flame out behind Willow. A beacon of her victory. The bird stayed aloft for a moment, then pitched forward, smashing into the dirt. A steady pool of blood began to appear around it.

Willow looked at it, staring through her burning visor that was crumbling to ash. She sank to her knees, and fell forward, slamming into the hard ground. Her arms barely cushioned the fall, but they managed to stop her from knocking herself out. The wound in her back was bleeding, but the fire was doing a job of cauterizing it. Willow tried to stand back up, but the blood loss was too much and she threw up. The vomit didn't catch, and the smell was horrendous, forcing her to crawl her way downwind. After an hour and a half on the floor, she wasn't feeling quite so nauseous. She stood up and surveyed her kill.

It was even stranger up close. Parting it's thin fur, she found its skin to appear burned and blistered. Bumps and lesions covered its grey flesh. The beak was a strange, dull purple hue, and clinked when Willow tapped it. Of course, willow finally came to the eyeball. The lid hadn't shut when the bird died, as it had had a certain spear puncturing it. Willow yanked it out, making a grotesque squelch as the wood and flint was removed from the flesh.

The once pristine weapon was now covered end to end in red viscera. It was warm in her hands, so Willow didn't mind as much. She staggered over the birds spindly legs until she found the nest. It was a small affair, built from tightly packed twigs and dead grass. Atop it sat a huge blue egg, as large as her head, covered in white spots. Willow took off one of her burning sleeves and reached a hand out. The egg was warm to the touch, and seemed to push into her hand.

Willow rubbed the shell, feeling the smooth surface beneath her cooling fingertips. Her body still crackled with fire as she squatted beside this huge egg. A single exposed arm was the only proof that she was still human beneath her burning shrub armour. Smoke rose high into the air, spiralling up and up into the slate grey clouds.

Willow looked around now. The smell of blood and the cold air on her face brought a bit of clarity to her mind. She saw the great stones rising from the earth. A stone to her right appeared to have veins made of honey. Willow hefted up her pouch, stowed her spear, and walked over to the strange stone. As she got closer, she saw the veins glisten and dance against the firelight of her body. Gold. Willow knew what gold was. She ran a finger along a particularly meaty vein, feeling it's icy coolness. She shivered.