... He had been told by his father to only do this in emergencies, and seeing as this was definitely an emergency, he was going to try. Jim summoned all his breath- although being chased takes away much of your breath- and blew on the twigs. A fire grew from them, dancing in the wind. He sidled the fire over to one hand, placed it on the floor, then slid a small bottle from out from his worn pocket and unscrewed the lid, sprinkling its contents onto the cloud of light. He held the fire up to his face.

Jim's hand was, surprisingly, not burning with the fire. The fire was now a foresty shade of green. There was no weight on Jim's hand, just the tickle of the fire. The beauty of the fire was overwhelming. Jim's ears had canceled out all sounds but the light crackling of the fire. He stared only at the fire, ignoring how quiet his surroundings had become. He dug his other hand deep into his pocket, pulling out another small bottle, full of a purple liquid. Doesn't fire die out when liquid is poured on it? Uncertainly, he dripped the fluid onto the fire.Now, the underneath of the fire was purple. There was only two more things he needed to add to the brew.

He pulled a tooth from his wolf-head hat. There was a small door on the side, which he opened, and dumped the pink powder in the fire. Lastly, he put a leaf in it. Any leaf will work, his father had told him. It was finally done. The fire of life. The fire that could summon anything Jim desperately needed. The fire of the gods, the villagers had called it. One of the most finest piece of witch craft to be created. Jim didn't know were his father had got it, but that didn't matter. He could ask for food, for warmth, for company.

He heard a rustle in the bushes behind him. He turned, guessing who it was. He guessed right. Yes, he could ask for anything, but at this moment, there was one thing he needed more than anything;

safety