She was only awakened at dawn by the crows gleefully feasting on the corpses of her tribespeople.
The noise of her waking startled the crows, and they scattered.
They perched on nearby branches, eyeing the person who should have died.
Their scrutinizing gazes were unbearable, and she fled back to the tribe like a madwoman.
She had survived, but her presence only reminded the others of their kin who had not. She had escaped death, but her cowardly behavior would inevitably be condemned.
She apologized to the families of the deceased, seeking forgiveness, but was met only with scorn and disdain. The relatives cursed at her and threw stones.
Eventually, the people of the tribe drove her out, into exile...
She became an outcast—unwelcome, unsung.
Alone, she wandered the wilderness. The guilt and shame grew stronger over time, threatening to drive her mad.
She set out for the Empire, determined to seek revenge on those soldiers.
