Mirana stared down at her grey hands. They were shaking. She did her best to steady them but found that soon to be impossible. The hunger was insatiable. How was she supposed to suppress it? How much longer could she last? Would she wither away and die for good if she resisted long enough? The thought alone would have had her heart pounding. If she were still alive that is.
Moving her gaze up, she focused her attention now on the horizon of the Wasteland. It was a strange place, a land full of dead or turning. She sighed to herself, folding her still trembling hands in her lap as she sat down.













