It seemed over for you.

The lunatics from your tribe had chased you island to island, trying to end the ‘bad omen’ and save themselves… that stupid shaman…

As you lay backed into a corner bleeding from a gash in your leg, the skies above began to roil and cloud with noise, when down thundered a shape, landing over you

A Skrill.

That black titanwing Skrill. The one you’d sprung from a snare. He was… protecting you…?