Starvation is unbreakable. When the only thing that can satiate your hunger is a rare material that slowly kills you it makes that hunger unbearable and ever consuming. Your very soul and existence hinges on this one thing and so you suffer every moment when you aren’t consuming. That is the life of a wyvern. As she flew through the black desert looking for the next source of Obsidian her instincts guided her toward the south.

Even with all the food that she could eat it never filled the void within this cursed form. What could satiate the feeling of needing to feast on every living being that crossed its path? Black scales covered the wings and body of a wyvern. As it flew and got closer to the small settlement it felt the pull of the stone. The ancient tool which gave the wyvern access to flight, breathing fire, and the strength that allowed it to rule the land.

In the wild expanse of the sky, the world unfolds beneath mighty wings. The town, a cluster of unfamiliar structures, beckons with curious scents and distant sounds. Driven by primal urges and territorial instincts, the creature soars through the air, a force of nature descending upon the human settlement.

The aerial dance is a symphony of chaos as the creature, fueled by untamed instincts, dives and twists. Buildings crumble beneath powerful claws, and the once-ordered streets transform into a chaotic canvas of destruction. From above, the town becomes a mere plaything, the snapping of beams and the roar of flames an unsettling soundtrack to the wild rampage.

The creature, oblivious to the human notion of order, revels in the freedom of flight and the raw power that its destructive path unleashes. Its senses are attuned to the vibrations of crumbling structures and the scent of upheaval. The sky, once a limitless expanse, becomes a theater of conquest as the creature claims the airspace and reshapes the landscape below.

To the animal, this is not an act of malice but a manifestation of instinctual drives— dance with the elements, a chaotic ballet of destruction and dominance, as it establishes its presence in a world not bound by human notions of order and chaos.

There were too many people and there was no way that she could hold back the flames from disintegrating their short existence. She couldn’t fight the feelings inside. The wyvern lost control long ago when she succumbed to hunger. She had arrived. There was no choice and it couldn’t move on. The black stone was hidden in this location. It swooped in and began the actions that made it so feared.

Little people ran in every direction. Most of the work that came with causing terror wasn’t the burns, the thunderous crack of wings throwing people in every direction or taking bites out of them. Most fear comes from showing them that you exist and that your power could destroy them. She knocked a building over. As one man tried to charge and attack the wyvern she waved one of her wings and threw him away. They still fought.

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Even as one of their own was crushed they still pushed against anything that could destroy them. Humans are delusional to the importance of their existence. They believe they are the most intelligent and strongest beings out there. They may be the most destructive and capable, but the strongest? No. That is meant for those cursed with being made of power. The wyvern flew over the town scattering the people. Then as they went in all directions screaming and feeling the shock of terror the wyvern landed.

It flexed its arms allowing the carved runes scattered across her body to gain power from the Obsidian core. With one focused movement the winged terror released a flurry that pushed people away and opened a path to her goal. Some weaker buildings were knocked down and debris was flung all around.

When the wyvern saw a child trapped underneath a wall an old instinct pulled on her heart to help the child, but the primal more powerful feeling guided the wyvern. She turned towards the building that houses it's prize.

The wyvern bounded through the town breaking buildings and burning anything that stood in her way. When she reached the location the wyvern slowed her movement as she came face to face with a man. He held a long rifle that pointed at one of her weak points. She couldn't place it but somehow she knew the destructive power this invention could cause. The wyvern crouched and waited for the man's action.

The rifle wasn’t magical, but it could still injure any mortal creature. A shot to the eye or in the mouth. Even the most powerful beings still had vulnerabilities. The wyvern pulled from its core a piece of knowledge she hadn’t felt or triggered for some time. A rune scribed on her body that meant something she hadn’t remembered, but it would work for this situation.

Heat began to build in the wyvern’s core. The flames were hotter than the noon day sun beating on black sand. The dragon picked a scale off of its wing and shot it in a column of flame that struck the rifle. The weapon combusted and knocked the man to the ground. The wyvern stepped over the injured man and climbed onto its goal.

She felt the wind surrounding her and gave into the power. With massive talons and great force from its wings it pulled from its core the power of the wind. It flapped its wings and lifted the building into the air. The weight of the building and the strain of the flight caused some pain, but the wyvern proceeded to take the building and escape into the air.

It all happened so quickly that the wyvern didn’t realize what happened. The rush of wind blocked out a lot of the noise, but one sound that broke through the wind and the chaos. The scream of a young child caused the wyvern to falter, but then her starvation took over and she continued to fly away.