Hera flew for her life, the wind buffeting her wings as they carried her through the  upland air. Terrified, confused, sad, angry, she was a mess of jumbled emotions as she fled the scene.

Returning to her chicks in the nest she’d made for them, she discovered they were all dead. They had been squashed and trampled beneath the boots of a gamekeeper. She’d screamed in anguish, looking at the bloodied bodies of her tiny brood, then had taken to the sky to get away, fast.