Tails of the Apocalypse

Cover Tails of the Apocalypse
Fallon     For the past hour I’ve followed buzzards circling in the sky, looking for the spot where death has drawn them. Where I hope to find enough unspoiled meat to get me through another day. When I arrive and scare the buzzards off, I find the corpse of an Icarite. One less Icarite in the world is one less pain in my ass. But I’m still annoyed that I’ve lost a meal.
    There isn’t much left of him; the buzzards have taken care of that. By his clothing I know he’s one of their hunters. The
... Icarites have hunted me often enough. I have the scars to show for it. By the arrow protruding from his ribcage, I see this hunter became the hunted. The irony isn’t lost on me, but he’s no concern to me now. I still have to find food.
    It’s hot out on the grasslands. The green scarf I keep wrapped around my head keeps the sweat from my eyes, but my shirt clings to my skin where the sweat trickles between my breasts. I raise my canteen to my mouth.
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