The Scenery shifted once, twice, thrice each time she blinked. Rolling hills, salted flatlands, craggy mountains till at last she came by the dead root. Once upon a time, such things may have connected and given life to some unfathomably large tree as its tendrils reached into the dead earth around her. But not here, not this root, for nothing living has ever called this world home except for those trapped here, and no life could this world ever give.