Sunday, 15 January 2017

Hail King.



In the gloom of early morning they crept past the King.

With rifles drawn in a low stoop, they did their best to make their way along the regular morning route.

The King shuddered sharply, internal sensory organs attempting pick up a scent. With a frustrated spasm and a low mewling rumble the great beast resumed its fruitless hunt.

The two figures barely breathed, holding back crouched down, they waited for the King to disappear back into the mist.

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