Heila was mad.
Heila was mad. No, mad was far too mild of a word to describe the diminutive witch as she raced across the rooftops of Hanrahan Town, her breath coming in ragged gasps that burned her throat in the frigid air. Each time she reached the edge of a roof, she had to force herself to draw on Snow Fang's power one more time, sending flurries of snow into the air to use as stepping stones to the next building.
Lunacy might be a better word to describe her rush across the rooftops in the night. If this had been how she started the battle, perhaps it would have been a reasonable, even a wise method of avoiding townsfolk and rushing to assault the Hanrahan Keep directly.
