Sharal the Hunter runs from the Warrior of Destruction.  She has lost all honour, all reason, all possessions but the skins that  cover her.

Her village burns, all she has known forever ashes.  
This ought to be a nightmare.
Here, now, it is horribly … overwhelming.
Heart, blood, breath, these are what matter understands.

Mind is elsewhere.  It has screamed into submission, reptilian —
Heart, blood, breath.
Terror reverberates
shakes tree limbs, wavers
vision.  Terror waits ahead.

Grabbing strength enough to veer,
steer clear,
running thoughtless through loss,
unafraid of the unexpected, uncharted,
new.
Unencumbered by old terrors,
expectations.
Ready by necessity to make do,
to start from simplest principles.
Who am I, today?
Tomorrow will take care 
of itself.

Advertisements