The afternoon sun shined down blinding her view of the horizon. Wolf covered her eyes with her arm while brushing the grains of sand and dirt from her long ashen blonde hair.

It heated the metal roof of her machine, burning Wolf's rear as she sat down on the roof bathing in the warmth.

Wolf placed her fingers on the metal zipper of her Old War military battlesuit and dragged it down, unzipping and exposing her upper body to the cool breeze of the moving winds. It felt refreshing and revitalizing, and relaxed the intense Wolf.

Blood, sweat and sand covered her exposed skin.

Wolf swept her filth-covered hands across her moist face.

Wolf's raven sat perched on the metal railing beside her sniper rifle. His head turned frantically as he examined the far hills of sand.

The blend of sweat and sand began to peel and remove the canary yellow paint from off of her forehead and eyelids. A scar in the shape of a partially covered letter peaked out from underneath the layers of dry paint on her forehead.

Wolf pried the top half of her dark purple battlesuit off. Her toned chest and stomach dripped of sweat. Under her unzipped suit she wore a black two-piece swimsuit.

Looking up at the scorching sun she panted, exhausted by the blazing heat. Her raven flipped his wings giving Wolf a momentary breeze.

"Thank you, Loki," she smiled at her raven.

Wolf slipped her arms through the arm holes of her one-piece suit and peeled the battlesuit from off of her upper body, which remained glued to her lower body.

She leaned over and cranked opened the roof hatch of the metal walker. Reaching down, she pulled out a thick tattered blanket and her hefty cloak of wrapped-up loot and laid down on-top of her walker.

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Wolf unwrapped her raveled up cloak and pulled out the three containers of clean water.

She remembered the face of the little boy when he spoke to her.

'You're robbing us?' she recalled him say. Wolf smiled, shaking her head.

Popping off the plastic container lids she took a swig of water. The liquid moistened her dry chalky throat and her chapped lips. She felt as if she could feel the cool liquid running throughout her warm body.

Wolf reached into her cloak-bag and ripped open the single container of grilled vulture and began devouring it like a starving hound. The meat was well cooked and tender. The fatty oils of the meat dripped from her mouth as she bit into it. She ate not only the meat but the gristle as well.

She tossed a small chunk of meat onto the metal roof for her raven.

"I hope it's not too weird eating another kind of bird," she spoke to her bird, as he glanced at her and then at the cooked meat interested.

Gnawing on the left-over bones of the meal Wolf closed her eyes.

She wanted to sleep but she couldn't. Not in this heat.

Wolf listened to the stomps of her metal walker as it continued to follow the tread marks in the sand. It was like clockwork, repeating in a perfect pattern.

The flesh-eater was her only way of finding Bloody Mirra. He would have to stop for gas or water. He wouldn't be far, she thought.

Beep, beep, beep, alerted her enormous metal tank as it ceased to a halt.

The metal walker had detected something nearby.