Vix fell through a vortex of opaque clouds, too frightened to even let out a scream. The gaseous smoke thickened the further she fell. It began to feel as though she was ripping through it as she went, like falling through enormous sheets of wet paper.

With every impact, she slowed a little. But not enough. Vix closed her eyes, waiting for the moment when she struck the bottom, when her legs would surely shatter like matchsticks.

She stopped falling. It happened so ...