That same night, while the villagers slept and the new day was silently sneaking in, so was Netiro. He soared high, letting the wind carry him over the meager huts and crops that was Nephram. His sulfur eyes swept back and forth. Despite the darkness and altitude, he could see everything. He quickly planned his attack and then spiraled down toward his first target.
They will all suffer for making me hunt for my own food! His eyes glowed and his nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply, giving strength to the inferno of gases rising within him. Fire erupted from his mouth; straw roofs ignited instantly. In a single breath he swept over a wheat field, setting the entire crop ablaze. With a roar he circled again to observe how the fire spread. He had to be careful not to destroy everything; these people and their food were necessary.