Rays of the sun kissed the land as it peaked over the horizon, setting the barren land ahead blazing red. The Red Waste was aptly named, there was no signs of life and the ground was coloured like long since dried blood. It was said to be the Earth’s blood, for the Earth was wounded in such a way that it would never properly heal. For those who cared, it was a saddening thought.

Ahead was death, while behind displayed a different view entirely. Life. Paradise Land, a city and a haven for those who sought protection from the woes beyond the wall. Bandits were a problem but completely paled in comparison to the terror of the damned. The corpses of the dead that have risen in search of the flesh of the living. 

 The two contrasts, with life in the background, always made one think that maybe hope was in the past, but then if viewed from the Red Waste, one looked forward so maybe hope was in the future?

Pondering this thought, while her dark brown eyes were trained directly on the land ahead, was the smallest of The Harpies Three; Anora, more widely known simply as The Dove. Strands of platinum blonde hair lazily caressed her cheeks as a gentle breeze blew by from the direction of Paradise Lands leader as she changed from raven, to girl. Sparing but a glance in the direction of the Leader as she scaled down the wall, Anora took the opportunity to stretch out her magnificent wings which were a shade of the purest white. They were beginning to cramp from lack of movement and the release from their confined folded position was quite liberating. 

Looking back out at the Red Waste while the feathers of her wings were free to catch the gentle air currents, Anora sighed and the next thing through her lips after the release of air was a soft note, followed by another and another until soon they formed a calming melody. It was a reflection of her mood as the nights cold vanished to be replaced with the warmth that the sun provided as it continued its ascent in the sky. Best to enjoy it now before the day became its usual, unbearably heated environment. 

That was when another thought crossed The Dove’s mind. [i]Perhaps hope was in the present…[/i]