Wind buffeted Qatar, pulling at his ivory wings and tail threating to knock him over and send him tumbling down the sand dune upon which he stood. From his perch the SandWing stared down at a hole in the sand. An unmarked grave in the middle of the desert. The grave of a dear friend. In his talons Qatar held a thin thread necklace, a gold coin hanging from it. Qatar lifted the necklace up to his right eye, his good and only eye. The gold of the coin glimmered in the swirling dust and setting sun, all glitter and shine. Qatar dropped the necklace into the grave as a small smile played across his face, the scars across its left side contorting and pulling on the scales and flesh, giving it a skull-like appearance. "A gift for you, old friend. Though I doubt you'll apricate it much." Qatar said. He finally gave into the winds buffeting him and slid down his dune to crouch the edge of the grave. At the bottom of the hole he'd dug Qatar was pleased to see that Morocco was just now regaining conciseness and beginning to struggle against the tight ropes that bound and gagged him. When the bound SandWing spotted Qatar leering down at him, he struggled even harder. "Oh come now." Qatar said. "There's no reason to waist preciouses energy trying to escape." Morocco had thrashed around enough to loosen the gag around his mouth, and had begun to scream.
"Qatar!! You can't do this to me, get me out of here!"
"I kinda already have done this too you, and I won't be helping you out. You're going to die down there Morocco. Slowly. It's what you deserve."
"No! Qatar please! I'm sorry, please just let me go. We can talk about this!"
"NO!" Qatar shouted. He touched the left side of his face, felt the rough patchwork of scars and the empty socket where his left eye had once resided within. "No talking. I'm not falling for it again." Qatar jumped back upright, shaking of the sand that had collected on his wings. "Alright, unless I'm wrong there will be a huge storm arriving soon. Certainly not one that you'd want to be outside for. You'll be fine though. Buried alive, but fine nonetheless. At least for a while. How long do you think you can survive being buried underground for Morocco? You'd run out of air pretty quickly right? Plus the mental anguish of waiting hours, struggling desperately to free yourself while death creeps nearer with every grain of sand that falls onto your sorry head."
"Noooo! Please you can't!" Morocco's agonized wail was music to Qatar's ears.
"As I said before, already done. See you in hell Morocco." Qatar kicked some sand into the hole and then spreading his wings leapt into the sky. The last thing Qatar heard from the hole were Morocco's sobs. The ivory SandWing grinned to himself. "Everyone gets what they deserve in the end."