"When the Death of Mountains came for us, we had been aching for a long time. There is so much loss in being a mountain; it is a terribly long time to live. Yet something awoke within us when they arrived, their face a stone skull, their hands obsidian bones that cracked and crackled like fracking. It made us hurt to hear their earthquake step across the ground as they arrived. Their breath was like coal dust, the stuff their cloak was made from. They left a trail of oil behind them as they walked. When they spoke, their breath was hot, volcanic; it made us wither at first. We, however are a middling child of the Appalachians. And we have seen much worse. Far worse than death."