oceans rise, empires fall, we have seen each other through it all
Light dapples on the walls of the Slagveld when dawn breaks. The building is sleepy at this time, until its proprietor comes to open the place up. And when the boy does come - oh, what a sight will greet him.
The harpy is splayed upon one of the walls overlooking the boxing ring, wings and talons stretched out wide, as if in welcome. Blood and mottled feathers slick the floor, rusting through the sand, clogging all with red.
Arsen has been dead for hours now - not a drop of blood remains in his body, making his cause of death easy to discern. There is enough crimson on the ground to drown in.
And that is precisely the point.
Nearby, a note in a hand that Sunjata will recognise well:
Ek het jou 'n guns gedoen. Maak hierdie gemors nou skoon
~FIN
The harpy is splayed upon one of the walls overlooking the boxing ring, wings and talons stretched out wide, as if in welcome. Blood and mottled feathers slick the floor, rusting through the sand, clogging all with red.
Arsen has been dead for hours now - not a drop of blood remains in his body, making his cause of death easy to discern. There is enough crimson on the ground to drown in.
And that is precisely the point.
Nearby, a note in a hand that Sunjata will recognise well:
Ek het jou 'n guns gedoen. Maak hierdie gemors nou skoon
~FIN
SHAJU
