Aqua Vitae looked left and right before scurrying to the hidden burrow, the place she called home. It blended into the landscape perfectly-charred plant life and loose dirt packed in such a way to not fall. Her eyes were long accustomed to the warm darkness of the twisting earthen tunnels. Feeling the space open up substantially, she took a precious match from her small pack and lit her only stub of a candle. The candle flared with desperate light and illuminated the nearly bare chamber. An under stuffed mattress sat glumly in the corner with a depreciative crate at its side, huddling together for comfort. A chipped, half filled pitcher rested against the wall, along with a bent water bottle and a wooden flute. Walking with a slight stumble from exhaustion, she took a small drink of water and reached out to her flute. It was amazing how humble an instrument could bring such peace to her soul. Raising it to her chapped lips, she played a song from her childhood. The notes were shaky at first, but quickly gained a wild strength that rivaled the battles going on around the world. When the last note died away, she collapsed on the ground while clutching the flute to her torso. Tears of despair welled in her hazel eyes from doing what the humans had told her to do: "run" or "bitch! you're one a<span style="font-style: italic">Them</span>aren'cha?".