The human race, like vermin, outlived every single one of the founding races and all the mythical beasts of the past. They spread like plague, devouring land and all it had to offer in mere centuries. After these corrupted, filled with arrogance and pride exceeding even the dragons' creatures tracked down and killed last of its predecessors, the era of humans was finally at dawn. A red dawn, a dawn of blood. 
Elathu Asada, whose name translated into "Dancing Dust", watched in horror as humanity spread through the globe. They titled themselves "The Intelligent", as if they were the only ones possessing the gift of self-consciousness, and without squinting their eyes violently enslaved and murdered the helpless wildlife. Soon tyrants emerged from the crowd, and capitalism, along with the feudal system, was established. Cities grew larger and larger, forests were cut down and rivers shackled in bridges. The land couldn't breathe, but nobody seemed to care that they are racing towards their death.
Dancing Dust, as he was a spirit wanderer and a seer, turned towards the wildlife and prepared a ritual, trying to at least to some extent take the weight of despair off the shoulders of the animals. He was utterly shocked by what he saw in their minds, by the sadistic cruelty and the bloody reign of humanity. In desperation, he guauged his eyes out trying to stop the flood of horrifying visions, but that didn't help. Ultimately, he commited suicide, jumping off a high cliff.
But that didn't help. He couldn't escape the bottomless well of despair even with death. 
Twisted right leg, wearing tattered remains of what might have once been thick wolf skin over armour of leather. Arms, desiccated and cured to little more than leather-clad bones. Face disclosed only empty pits, nose a gaping cavern, lips dried and withdrawn from carried teeth. 
Apathy emanating from withered dark caverns - the remains of his eye sockets.

All that is left in the end, is dust dancing in the pale moonlight glow. Nothing else, not memories, not love, not hatred nor anger. 
All that remains of us and our bones, of our ambitions and all our wishes, is dust - not more, not less. 
Dust dancing through the endless desert of despair.