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The ash rained down on my face like snow, slowly coating the surroundings gray. As the last embers died down I stood up and wandered around the town I once knew. Sitting on the baker's dead body was a cat. I clicked my tongue and beckoned for it.

The cat reached forward and scratched the back of my hand. I hissed and retracted my hand. 'That cat isn't friendly' I thought. I searched for a clean cloth to use on my bleeding hand. looking around a spotted a villager dressed in a white tunic that didn't look too dirty. I tore off the whitest part and wrapped my hand.

My stomach ached. I hadn't eaten since the day before. I searched through the villagers' houses that didn't burn completely down. I managed to find some rations in a cellar under the tavern. I ate quickly and sat on the front porch.

On closer inspection, it seemed as if the soldiers that came through here went north towards the trading city of Azak. Lost, I started walking north, following the trail the group left behind. As I wondered I would occasionally eat the ripe berries off the bushes I thought edible and pulled out raw plants for consumption.

After a day of travel, my wounded hand started to throb. The cloth hadn't been sufficient for the amount of filth that had accumulated on my hands. I washed the wound in the lake water and used my own cloth as a bandage. I had cut a piece off the bottom and washed it in the water best I could.

I felt exhausted and empty. 'What am I doing? Why am I following those men?'

Doubts filled my mind but I never changed my mind. "I'm going to get back at them if its the last thing I do!" I didn't know what I would do. Maybe I would give them poison that would give them a rash for the rest of their lives!