It screeched at me, the sole survivor of its wrath, and I scrambled away. My body hurt. I remembered now. It brought me up here, on top of one of these buttes, to feed me to its children. I was easy to carry. I had been knocked unconscious by it, so it didn’t think I was going to get up and run away.

My sides were injured, cut up by the beast’s claws. I was bleeding. My clothing was torn and soaked to the point it was brown and sticky. I didn’t want to die again!

I slid, tumbling down the side of the cliff. It was not graceful, but I had to get away, and the only direction away from the wyvern was down. My tiny body squeezed down into a rock formation, a crack between two walls. It hurt. I felt tears rolling down my cheeks but made no sound. My knees were bleeding now. So were my hands. The wyvern clawed at the stone above, raining rubble down onto my head, but I kept sliding further and further out of its reach.

By the time I hit the ground, the base of this massive canyon system, I was going too fast. My ankle struck the floor and I heard it crack, heat washing over me as a whimper of pain made it past my lips. Why? Why me? Why did that damned goddess have to bring me here? Why did the wyvern have to kill everyone? I wanted to go home.

I needed to keep moving… My ankle was broken, or sprained if I was lucky. I hobbled, the searing pain striking me with every step. The roar of the irate wyvern above me vibrated the stone walls around me, but it couldn’t fit down here. It was like an alleyway. The shade made what was once searing hot instead a freezing cold and dark tomb like a cave. I tripped thanks to my freshly injured foot and stayed there, laying against the ground, wondering what I had done to deserve this.

Forcing myself to sit up, back against the stone, I tried to take stock of what was happening. I was safe… for now… but I had no food or water, no shelter. I was as good as dead if I stayed here. And I was injured now. From my hazy memories, this place my tribe called home was no one’s territory. People didn’t live here, except for a handful of nomads. Only monsters lived in this hellish place.

“Ahh,” I made a small pained sound, testing my throat. I was mute, but I didn’t know why my throat hurt to make a sound. I was too young to understand things like that, and it didn’t seem like this world was advanced in medicine anyhow. I had no name. I was too young to have earned a name yet - most children died young, so they didn’t get a name until they were at least six. I was… four? Fuck. No wonder I was so small. Being mute was a big problem for a community that would have needed to communicate to survive. That poor little girl… Well, poor me, I supposed. I didn’t understand why the adults were angry with me, just that they were. The only reason I didn’t get kicked out already and essentially left to die was that the stupid bird had come and killed everyone first. Was I mute because I couldn’t speak physically or because of a psychological issue? Was I mentally impaired?

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It didn’t matter now. I wasn’t that little girl anymore. I wasn’t even the old me anymore. Nothing mattered right now but survival.

I needed food, water, and shelter. I remembered roughly where the tribe’s camp was, so I shoved myself back to my feet and hobbled in that direction. Though I wasn’t good at directions in my last life, it seemed this little body had a good sense for it. I knew where I was, I knew the main curves of the stones, though not the tiny passageways between them. It wouldn’t be safe to stay in the camp - the wyvern might come back - but I needed supplies from it.

As I moved, the panic of the situation slowly crept in, and I was crying again. The silent tears soaked my face, drops of water wetting the sand leaving small dark spots on the ground which were the only evidence of my trail. The small breeze weaved its way through the stony hellscape erasing footsteps. I was alone… in a land ruled only by beasts. There were no people here, certainly not ones that would take a mute in. All I could do was hope to survive, or die trying.

I couldn't tell how long I had been walking, my sense of time dulled by the pain, each step jolting me awake from my slow torpor due to blood loss. Were humans more resilient in this world or something? I couldn't figure out how this small child or…. well… how I was still alive with my injuries. But finally, I had made it to the camp, or what was left of it.

I keeled over, throwing up what little liquid in this body I had left, the bodies… they had already been partially obscured by the sands of this deathtrap. But not enough to shield my eyes from their viscera and freshly eaten carcasses. Wiping my mouth I stumbled forward. Rummaging through the wreckage was all I could do now. I didn't have time to even think about offering them a burial, the sands would do that job for me. Besides, they abandoned me, well… past me, so fuck them. I had found some bandages and rags that were relatively free of filth, and sat down on a half-sand-sunk piece of fabric, maybe a tent, and started to bandage myself.

I wanted to wash the wounds. But right now, that would be a waste of water I didn’t have. I grimaced as I pulled the bandages tight against my small body, god... I could see my ribs pushing against my skin.

How starved was this kid before I took over?

I supposed I should look for some rati-..... In an instant, I froze, my entire body could not move. My eyes trembled as I stared forward. Oh, child, I think we're cursed, I thought as I processed the kind of luck that I had thus far had… In front of me emerged from one of the twisting pathways, a large… could I even call that a wolf? It was nearly 6 feet tall, with an armor coat of rock covering its dusty brown fur. Was it the corpses? Was the smell of death attracting a scavenger?

Even in death, these nomads were making me suffer!

The rock-coated wolf in front of me slowly walked forward, with each step it bobbed slightly up and down and paused to lick its front right paw, the armor on it was missing, and the fur was stained brownish red. And, looking more, there were multiple cracks upon the layered plate-like slabs of stone adorning the rest of its body. It was wounded…. Maybe it had lost a fight? Maybe I could escape?