This land was not proving to be of interest to one with her unique mental capacity. Not one creature here had shown anything approaching the wit to capture her attention. She could not even resort to her old methods of entertaining herself, for there was no beast here, feathered, furred, or scaled, who had the nerve to approach her let alone supply her addiction. Damnation.
The rufus-gold empress was enthroned on the charred remains of a thick, low-hanging branch, her posture rigid as she stared fixedly upon the horizon. Nothing, there was nothing here, nothing to do, absolutely nothing of interested on this damnable continent. She'd come to this desolate wasteland to brood, for why not brood in dead land? It was as good a place as any in which to slowly wither away from boredom. She was in no mood to hold company with the mindless idiots that roamed more populous regions. Wicked claws clenched about the branch with a strength to pierce the skulls of lesser prey beasts, now nothing more than a means upon which to stand.
