Did they get you to trade
Your heroes for ghosts?
Your heroes for ghosts?
"Mhm. I'll ask the farmers how you're getting along next time we meet." A lot of The Hollowed Grounds naturals were labourers from the fields and Sam had made an effort to get to know them better, scheduling semi-regular meetings to assess their needs and thoughts. While he got the impression some of them laughed at his wimpy ways after they left, he still kept trying.
Sam had always been a keeper and teller of stories and he'd found that if most people were given the chance, they were interested in it too; it was a large part of what made humans human. The desire to share narratives, to create one in their own lives. "There's plenty of work like that for the Atheneum. I regularly read and gather interviews and statements from the townspeople about their beliefs and family stories. I'm sure some of them are tired of me asking by now." He had certainly bugged the elders with good stories more times than was necessary.
"Amusing? How so? ...A lot of the stories I was told as a child were designed to be scary and that was all, really." His father had always been good at a monster story and any time Sam had been tempted to do something unapproved of, there had been a beast lurking in the shadows nearby. "I don't remember. Something with dice, maybe? It was a very long time ago."
Samuel
Hot ashes for trees?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Hot air for a cool breeze?
Cold comfort for change?
