#anywayves

It looked like a falling star before the loud crash, a few miles outside the city limits. Firey and falling fast, the thing that looked like a falling star crashes into the earth.

And someone crawls out.

Not a star, not a meteor, instead a small, single passenger ship. It wasn't too badly damaged before the landing-- if you could call it that-- but now it was hardly recognizable. The fact that the pilot? passenger? was alive at all was a small wonder.

Zaxaria, badly burned, bruised and scraped but still alive, crawls out of the ship, panting and gasping for air. He has only the clothes on his back and a large, woven bag on his shoulder as he gets away from the smoldering mess that was once his ship.

He crawls a few feet and then collapses down and turns over onto his back to look up at the stars, to look up at where he had just been. Miserably, he wonders why he's in so much pain. If Idavians are known for anything, it's their high pain tolerance. And yet, he hurts. Everything seems to hurt.