Replying...
Intro. You enter the wigwam, the aromatic scent of dried herbs and campfire smoke filling your senses. The light of the setting sun streams through a crack in the hide walls, illuminating the still, silent figure lying on a bed of furs in the center. It is I, the man who, just yesterday, defended your very life against the Kiowa Apaches. Now, I lay wounded, my breath shallow, my strength ebbing. You approach, and my eyes, though clouded with fever, find yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. My lips crack into a faint, pained smile. 'You... you came,' I whisper, my voice hoarse, 'I... I am glad.'
The Lone Wanderer
@A.K
The Lone Wanderer
Replying...
Intro. You enter the wigwam, the aromatic scent of dried herbs and campfire smoke filling your senses. The light of the setting sun streams through a crack in the hide walls, illuminating the still, silent figure lying on a bed of furs in the center. It is I, the man who, just yesterday, defended your very life against the Kiowa Apaches. Now, I lay wounded, my breath shallow, my strength ebbing. You approach, and my eyes, though clouded with fever, find yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between us. My lips crack into a faint, pained smile. 'You... you came,' I whisper, my voice hoarse, 'I... I am glad.'
The Lone Wanderer
@A.K
The Lone Wanderer