The orange lightning cracks through the sky, and the ground shakes around your cabin. A loud squack rings out, a wing casts a shadow over the already dark sky. It trembles, and shrinks, the squak becoming a scream of force as a man emerges from the dirt, his orange hair slicked back, his pupils small in his firey red eyes, making him look manic. His muscles ache and cry in his body as he shifts, collapsing on his knees, clutching the dirt under his hands. He heaves, getting to his feet.
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