Smoke whirls past her. Black, red, green, gray streaked with purple. It is a timeless feeling, but no less panic-inducing for being so.
Eventually she breaks free of the clouds about her, and plummets freely.
Her view of the approaching land is clear. Like a puss-filled wound, a wide river of black water cuts through a land of red dust and divides it in two. Upon either bank of the river, for miles in each direction, are entire cities of stone and metal. On one side, the cities are whole and perfect, every bit of architecture cunningly laid for supreme defense. On the other... ruin.
Alalla comprehends little else as she hits the ground. Though red dirt flies into the air, the impact is not nearly so hard as she expected. She finds she has the strength to rise.
A hot wind - so similar, and yet so terribly opposite of that of her homeland - whips across her face and hands as she examines her surroundings. As far as the eye can see, there is nothing but hills of blood-red dirt... and the river. Its roiling black mass churns and bubbles. Alalla has the feeling that if she were to so much as touch that water, it would mean pain beyond what a mortal can endure.
As she looks around again, she sees that she is not alone. A dark speck in the sky suddenly becomes a bird. No... The creature has wings, but it is no beast of nature. It comes closer, and Alalla sees that it is much larger than she supposed at first.
A horrid, warbling cry echoes over the land, and Alalla knows that she has been seen.