The ground at my feet was cracked and dry. The air that rasped between my broken and bleeding lips was burning hot. The sun overhead blazed viciously as if in an attempt to burn the life out of everything that got caught in its gaze and I had to admit to myself that it was certainly succeeding for everything was dead and barren. Everything except me of course.
Before the group of Voxanian mercenaries had rode through the nomad village I had called home and had slaughtered all those who I had loved, I would never have dreamed of doing something so foolish and desperate. But now that I had nothing left, the only thing that burned in my heart was revenge. Revenge for the lives that had been taken so cruelly and violently by those foul, heartless monsters. I had thought long and hard about how to exact this revenge and finally decided to find and join the rebellious group that called themselves The Rogues. And so I had packed whatever weapons and supplies I could find, turned my back on the ruins of my home and set off towards the horizon.
Behind me the Skye was turning red with the glow of the setting sun and I decided to rest for the night. Withdrawing a small silver whistle from a pouch at my waist I gave a harsh blast on it. After a few minutes an answering cry split the air and I glimpsed the golden and brown blur that was streaming towards me. Holding out my gloved arm, Carla landed gracefully and tucked in her glorious plumage. She looked exhausted so I set her on the ground and after rummaging in my pack, produced a sliver of meat which I held out for her. She snapped it up and gave a grateful cry. I smiled and lay down to sleep on the hard ground, stroking the feathers that ran down her back.
"You're all I have left now Carla!" I told her. She looked at me with one large yellow eye, as if to say I know. I rolled over and after a while fell into a sleep broken with dreams of pain and loss.