First, ravens flecked with mud were pummeled down the soil, thick blood seeping into the cracks, because the new Leader, who vowed to bring rains, roared on community radio past midnight to declare the corvid as enemy after a vision of houses ablaze. Then, the Leader came for owls, after a specter whispered of the warm-blooded birds with dilated pupils so wide they could siphon precipitation. So, every flutter of feathers from the sinister creature triggered bloodshed, even by children, their tiny fists clenched on machetes. Then, the Leader came for chickens, their main livelihood, for sacrifice. People raised questions, but the Leader shunned the clangor and insisted on vacating the coops. Again came the rampage, fowls scampering on arid earth as people brandished their weapons, agony burning within parched throats in every wield. Still, the sun singed off meager acres of plantations, their remaining sustenance. So, the Leader came for their lives, with only a few to be spared. Then, there was carnage. Then, there went hope.