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    Summary

    It's too bright. And cold, is it winter yet? It can't be.

    A thin trickle runs down his neck, warm droplets roll over his collarbone and down his chest where they seep into his tunic. His collar is brown and sticky. The mud, he thinks, ignoring the metallic scent. The smells overlap and mix, they make it hard to think straight. Why is he here again? He will be late for the wedding. He can't miss the wedding.

    Good bye, the mud says as he slowly straightens up, come back soon. He can't come back, he'll miss the wedding.

    Language:
    English
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    1,846
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  2. 07 Jun 2026

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