A dull day all in all. The same routine with the computer-tutor as she called it (no match for Justin whatever her father might say).  An hour of weapons practise with her bow, but not a proper moving target in sight; even when she went down to the beach and crept non too discreetly through the dunes, there was not a sign of a native anywhere.  So pretty much lacking in interest, one way or another.

But Dayna loved the quietness of the shoreline at dusk, peppered with its own flora and fauna, some unknown on Earth, others long familiar from childhood tales, like the rabbits that came out to feed. Sometimes she would shoot one for supper, but she didn’t really enjoy killing rabbits. They were too innocent, too defenceless for her to take any pleasure in their deaths.

The real joy was the palette of colour in the twilight sky as the sun set over the sea. Gold over pink and red, threaded with darkening blues that blushed to purple.  And so, when the flares and shooting stars began to speckle the night sky, great fiery spheres seeming to fall through the atmosphere, Dayna took them to be some meteorological anomaly and a fine one at that. She would interrogate her father about their cause.

It was the next day, after Hal had found out the truth and told his daughter about the invasion, that she felt the first twinge of real alarm in all her short life; fear for her home, for her father and Lauren, fear for herself even.  After that she was vigilant throughout the day and late into the night, watching the battle unfold in all its fearsome technicolour glory.

Later that week, when she had despatched the local savage and was half helping, half dragging the beautiful stranger away from his heat scorched pod, dazed and stumbling and barely conscious through the dunes to the safety of her cave, she felt a twinge of excitement, shot through with dread at what this man might be bringing into her life.