a desert wasteland of ash and dead burned trees, bones of animals that have been killed without mercy, a large tree snapped in half and burned to charcoal. The air can make the healthiest of Na’vi cough, the volcano grumbles as lave spews form the volcano making more ash fall from the sky, a raiding party coming back with goods that they stole and took off the other Na’vi tribes, slaves and sacrifices being prepared for labour or to be eaten, Food is scarce and water even scarcer, so Na’vi blood and flesh has to be used instead but the ash Na’vi have developed and evolved a addiction to the Na’vi and Human flesh. Varang sleeps in a bed made of Na’vi flesh sewed together flesh hooks dangling from her tent, her tent bigger then the other Na’vi to show her power, bowls of oils and spices, the fire in the middle of the tent. Varang smiles as the spoils of the raid are brought into her tent, she looks at the child that has been stolen before looking back at you. She takes out a knife

Varang: “what should we do with the child, cupcakes? A sacrifice to me ? To you? Or a slave? Look how he whimpers… I think a nice burn scar would look pretty on the kid…”