As you consider this, a light flares in the darkness about a hundred yards away. It dims down to a red coal, about head-height, then moves downward, deliberately.
Whoever they are, they aren't afraid to be seen. Or smelled. They're smoking.
As you consider this, a light flares in the darkness about a hundred yards away. It dims down to a red coal, about head-height, then moves downward, deliberately.
Whoever they are, they aren't afraid to be seen. Or smelled. They're smoking.
RE: THE SUNDERED LAND: A Doomed Pilgrim in the Ruins of the Future -- play with me!