There is not a moral evil which has not its infallible antidote, nor any moral virtue which has not its spring and sustenance in Jesus Christ and Him… - Alexander Knox

The tomahawk flickered after her like a stick-thin dwarf doing cartwheels in the air and the stone head made a cracking sound as it struck. She fell instantly, and curiously slowly. Her heavy body made no sound. Her skull was shattered and the haft of the tomahawk stood out like the handle of a spoon from a boiled egg.

First there was nothing, then the nothing became blue. This was sky and it was one blue. Then it became a mixture of pale blue and dark blue and the dark blue was heavier and came together, and it found it was water. Then the mud in the water came together, and it found it was an island. The waves in the water shaped the island like the back of a turtle and made it smooth. So it was learned that smooth things could be made of mud so why not make them? So, out of the mud of the island two people were made, smooth and good to look at. They were Wendet, people of the island. Everyone knows these people were made but who made them? No one knows. It was too long ago. Not even the spirit of the oldest tree, or a mountain, or the moon could tell you because even those old spirits are too young to have been there.

Infection...is like the wind, it bloweth where it listeth.