Common folk offer shelter to uncommon travelers, and raise questions of the success of one of their number, and cost of a world built for the benefit of some. — It was dusk, and though a village may lay somewhere over the next horizon, it was difficult to tell how far. A man had herded mixed cattle onto the road, but was struggling to get them to cross out of the way. He glanced up to four weary travelers, though looked no less so himself. “You women on your way to town?” the man asked, and wiped his brow. He seemed both surprised, and shrewd. “That’s a good few hours on… with tired horses.”
About The Author
Author, artist, programer, possible anachronistic fuzzy black kitten at the end of the universe - forging sprawling worlds of mercurial myth and mundane majesty.
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