"Fire, Fire everywhere somebody help us" lone villagers ran for their lives as the horrible heat began to spread. A posse of horses was coming over the horizon. Sneers of delight were across their faces as they watched the village burn. "Help me!" A small peasant boy called out. He was trapped under falling debris of the burning structure that was once his house. The village elder heard the boys cries and went back into the village then spotted him. The old quivering man knew the posse would be there any minute and they had little time. He reached for the boys hand and pulled him out with all his strength. "Run young one" he managed to say. An arrow went flying and shot the elder in the back. The boy gasped in horror the posse was gaining. The boy ran, arrows shooting in his direction. "You lousy good for nothings. You let him get away" the leader growled. The boy ran so fast he tripped over a tree root in the ground. How could the world be so cruel? How could his home be destroyed?
