Flynn's heart thumped. His legs churned like mud, and his feet burned like hot coals as the deepness of night overtook him. He stumbled as he raced through the dark of White Shade Wood. His boots skimmed the dry, cracked dirt, and his heels kicked up dust and leaves. Flynn ran. He ran far away from his home, his family, and his country. A kingdom born in ashes and blood, soon to return to that primordial form. This kingdom held no room for deserters, no room at all.