He wept.
Days and nights he ran from the destruction; the harsh reality; the truth, till the truth caught up with him, and he howled out loud at the moon.
As birds flew up from surrounding trees, frightened by the anger in his voice, a small fire a hundred meters away sizzled quietly and burned out.
Perhaps it was his anger that blinded his senses, or the heated tears that didn't cease. Whatever the reason, his life took a desperate turn for the worse that fateful day.
He got up, turned to his left, and his world went black.
"The heavens must be blessing us with such a good catch" said one to the other.
"Perhaps this is the Syril the little girl was crying out before I sliced her."
"Boss would be pleased."
Potholes
