Slur's Logbook >>
Churning in the deep blue black of night... tastes of liquid and salt.
I can see a million stars in the sky from where I was born deep in the valley, far from the smell of the ocean, amongst the mud and the grime and the blood and the taste of fear. But I know the ocean - in my soul I can sense it and my people are the same. Our senses are tuned and the wave of blood lust that washes in from the far shores hits the sky and wanders inland. It calls us
My mother was my mother and who would know her would not say or care as is the way with us. My father reared me. This is not an era for soothing talk and long embraces. It is a time for love lost and disregard. Not all of us will return and the heart must harden.
On the seventh day of the fifth moon we woke to the ground dissolving. Having walked a thousand miles through all terrain through dark and dawn we fell on our feet and under our feet was the sand - the sand against the shore