He feels it, and he hears it. The burro flaps its ear, desperate to shake the niggling feeling of desperation. There is something in the air, a taste of metal, a taste of death. Calim emerges from his abode, scanning the sands for any sign, but he sees nothing.
His poncho presses to the wind as he quickly saddles, only taking time to grab a waterskin. He buries a boot into his mount as the wild ass slowly bobs away from the Junlop tree.
A desert isn't a favorable homeland, and it doesn't warrant many visitors. Whoever nears the seer's home, they aren't welcome.
ns216.73.217.39da2
and then Add to home screen.