"We need food and medicine, and they have more than they need...there isn't another place to get drugs and bandages and things like that, it's just them."

"They won't trade? Or you didn't have things they want?"

"What can we give them? They have everything. Just because they think they're helping people, they get to keep all the resources. Well, maybe some of us don't like that." 

"So you turned to banditry. Reminds me of home." She sighs.

"We don't have a choice. What else can we do? Maybe if we could just fly around it would be different, maybe you're lucky you don't have to think about it."

"I understand. I couldn't fly around as a kid. I walked two hundred miles with my mom and brother begging for scraps, once. My brother robbed people for a little while... I'll have words with them about the value of charity. Meanwhile, you can can have half of my tinned biscuits and a drink from my canteen if you want them. One last thing though... Is that disease real? The fungus."

"Is it a fungus? I've never seen it happen in person. I saw that video, before the networks finally fell apart. Watching all of that pink fill the air like that, gives you chills." 

"Video? What's a video?"

"Videos are...right now you can see and hear me, but if you wanted to see and hear me later, then you could watch a video of me. Videos are talking pictures of things that happened already. We used to have them, but none of us know how to make them and we don't have the tools to watch them."

"So some kind of tech. Hmm... Do any of you have gardens? I can give you my biscuits like I promised, but I can also make plants grow fast like I can fly. I'd do it for a cut of the food."

"That's nice of you to offer. We haven't really been staying in one place, but they might want to, if we could grow something. None of us really know about agriculture. I was in advertising."

Some others bandits are approaching them now, one of them carrying a gun.

Her new bandit friend stands, cursing. One of her legs was injured when she tripped, so she keeps the pressure off that one, and holds her hands up.

"She's not hostile. She offered to help us, says she can help us set up a garden. Well, help it grow, we can start it off."

It doesn't look serious. She'll leave it for now.

"I used to farm onions. I was like twelve though... A lot changes depending on the crop but I know the general idea. It's a lot of hard work. There may be edibles in these woods, but cultivated stuff would be better. Someone said there's farms around somewhere?"

One of the newcomers spits on the ground.

"There are farms, but none of them are unguarded. All the farmers that didn't die off are hoarding them."

Her companion shakes her head. 

"She can make things grow faster. The farmers will want her help, and then we have a chance."

"I would be very happy to help set up new farms if it makes everyone less shooty and stabby. I can demonstrate feats of magic if you like. You see the flight. How about a little healing?"

She extends her hand to the injured bandit.

She takes it. 

The one with the gun changes her stance, but doesn't interrupt. 

Oh she's watching the gun.

But that ankle should be feeling a lot better right about now.

And when her Bandit Friend is miraculously healed and sighs in relief, her bandit friends calm down. 

Gun-toting Bandit holsters the gun. 

"This must be our lucky day. Minimal losses and a helpful stranger. What exactly are you?"

"The word is Witch. I'm going to comport myself as a neutral party relative to here, with the overall goal of 'some semblance of peace'. I understand desperation and defense, but, mind the violence."

"Violence is the best way to get food. Wasn't always, before society collapsed. Maybe now it won't be again."

With that bit of philosophical musing, Gun-toting Bandit retreats with the injured party. The two men she brought with her stay behind.

The stouter one glares at the slimmer one. Slim cocks an eyebrow at Stout.

"Boss likes you, thinks you're going to be a big deal," drawls Slim.

"Thing is, the hospitals don't play nice. They take people and then they never come back." 

She grimaces. "Yeah... They told me why. It's bad. It's the kind of bad where just knowing why might kill you some day. Nasty stuff. Of course, I went and found out and don't really regret it, but... I'll be on my guard around here, that's for sure."

Stout frowns.

"Bad to know why? You've seen how it works, and you believe it?"

"I believe they believe they're doing the right thing and I can't really be sure they're wrong. This morality and philosophy stuff was never my strong point."

Stout nods.

Slim scowls. 

"Maybe. At least now we'll have somewhere else to get food. Do you want us to come with you when you go to the farm, or are you going to check them out first?"

"I do need directions, and this hunk'a'junk," (She says it affectionately like one might call one's old truck, though) "is made to have as wide a range of uses as possible, which includes one passenger."

Stout raises an eyebrow.

Slim sighs.

"Alright, I guess I deserve that. I can do directions."