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.MoreLess
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.MoreLess
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