Mother Earth

A wail, a haunting screech, soaring agross wasteland winds, a battlecry, my child my child! Scorched black earth, smoking, barefoot she climbs, through the dirt and debris of her world. All of the trees are twisted and dead. The great drought has taken all life, both flesh and plant. There is no seed left to be sown. The end of days. She will wander that charred rock forever and lament.