Chapter Two
“See, the problem with these soft-skins is that they don’t know how to have any fun,” started Chul-Moo, his long curved blade dangling from his belt. His hard plates of skin softly grinded against each other as he walked further away from the cool afternoon sun that lit up his desert homeland, treading deeper into the lush grasslands that claimed host to a range of delicious animals. He looked towards his son, Kwan, and to the look of confusion upon his gormless face. He was growing strong, his horn almost the same size his own, and he knew it wouldn’t be long before the slow-minded fool would begin to attract potential mates. He used the blunt end of his wooden spear to scratch his back as they walked. “They’re always driven by foolish notions of right and wrong, questioning their existence, fearing what others think of them,” he spat on the ground in front of him in disgust. “Where’s the fun in that?” Kwan, clearly deep in thought as to this notion, chirped in “so dad, they don’t feel pleasure?” “I think they do,” he responded. “They simply deny it to themselves, and think themselves better for it.” Seeing the bewilderment on Kwan’s young face he continued, “for example, in their culture having sex is a long and drawn out affair, often involving a lot of talking and pretending to listen to what the woman has to say during some form of feasting ritual, and then – if you’ve succeeded in wooing her – she will allow you to mate.” He looked towards Kwan once more, still clearly attempting to use those few brain cells floating inside that hard skull of his to make sense of it all. “Dad… why don’t they simply take what they want?” “Well,” began Chul-Moo, appearing slightly puzzled himself, “for some reason they consider this wrong. There is a word they use for it called ‘rayp,’ which they will yell out.” He chuckled at the thought, “the faces they make…and all the villagers running around…next time we spot a village I’ll have to show you.” Kwan grinned at the thought.
Chul-Moo halted and slowly crouched down into the long blades of grass, Kwan quickly following suit. Passing the spear to him he whispered “cow up ahead. Kill it and bring it back here.” Chul-Moo watched as Kwan got closer, keeping low to the ground he quietly approached the cow as it contently continued chewing. A hundred feet away, a cool gust of wind whistled past, swaying the cool grass. The cow looked up, ‘fool,’ though Chul-Moo, ‘the wind will carry your scent.’ He tried to signal to Kwan to circle around to no avail. Seventy-five feet; desperately he willed him to throw the spear before it became alerted to his presence. Fifty feet, suddenly the cow looked up, startled at the sight of the copper figure in the nearby grass it sprang to life; Kwan threw the spear before the cow could react but it was too late. Deftly he watched as his son gave chase, rapidly retrieving the spear from the soft ground it had landed in. He slowly stood up from his crouched position. ‘This could take a while,’ he thought. Looking about himself, he made his way for a nearby tree, sliding his back down the soft bark to a seated position. As the cool breeze gently caressed his horn, he slowly closed his eyes and began to rest.
Sensing a slithering sensation over his leg he slowly awoke, instinctively grabbing out with his left hand, he opened his eyes to the small snake (perhaps 4 feet in length) that had chosen to make itself known. He must have only been asleep for half an hour but already the sun was beginning to set, offering a diminishing level of light over his surroundings. The snake began to hiss at him with a venomous smile, and with powerful jaws he tore the head from the snake’s still squirming body, spitting it out at the ground nearby. Clamping down at the tail with his hard claws, he raised the snake high above his head and slid his vice like grip up the body of the snake, allowing the blood to drain into his open jaws. As the blood slowly warmed his body, he felt the last of his lethargy drain and returned to a state of alertness. Tossing the remains to the ground, he looked out onto the horizon in front of him and caught a glimpse of what could only be Kwan. Slowly he approached, focussed on the copper blur in the distance, just capable of distinguishing the outline of the cow held upright by the horn driven deep into the back of his neck, the slow trickle of blood dripping down from its deep wound. Faintly the sounds of grunting could be made out, Chul-Moo was momentarily baffled before the realisation of what depraved act he was performing dawned on him. ‘Horny bastard,’ he thought, ‘perhaps he will need a mate sooner than I anticipated.’ Uttering a deep roar that shook the trees, birds took flight into the sky and Kwan turned to face his father, a look of terror in his eyes. With Chul-Moo’s powerful legs supporting his muscular frame, he charged towards Kwan, and within moments he had succeeded in pinning him to the ground, his naked blood-soaked torso lay panting on the ground beside the slowly dying cow, clearly incapacitated by the wound it suffered to its neck and hind leg, evidently where it had been struck by the spear. He spat on Kwan’s forehead in disgust, and slowly released him.
Turning the cow to face towards him, he withdrew his blade and slowly sliced along the creature’s belly, careful not to break much further than the skin. The organs that had been kept locked inside spilled out onto on the soft grassy floor in a thick stew of blood and bile. Placing his blade on the ground, he gripped the incision he had so recently made and thrust his hard claw deep inside the recently slain beast. Feeling around inside, he gripped one the four stomachs and tore it from the barely breathing torso, a satisfying squelching sound faintly heard as he tossed it aside callously to the patch of grass nearby, the dying creature letting out a small, fading pant as each stomach was removed in turn. Ripping out the barely beating heart, the cow displayed one last final wide-eyed stare before finally succumbing to deaths fatal embrace, the last of the blood sputtering out from the heart, splashing onto his leg and the nearby grass. “Eat,” he barked, tossing the heart to Kwan. Dragging part of the long intestine out for himself, he bit off a large chunk and began to chew the tough meat, blood squirting down his long canines and dripping from his hard chin.
He looked towards his son, gingerly gnawing away at the tough heart with an upset look on his face. “You realise we were to eat that creature you were defiling?” he growled. Solemnly, Kwan nodded. “Luckily were giving that to your mother,” Kwan’s startled gaze darted towards him. “You won’t –” “I’m not going to tell her.” Chun-Moo muttered. “The earful I’d get from that whore? Not worth the effort.” He tore off another chunk of intestine, wiping the blood from his chin with the back of his hand. “But what were you thinking?” Kwan looked down to the ground. “Surely there’s some unclaimed woman that’s caught your eye?” “Well…” Kwan started, “There is one but we don’t visit her clan very often.” Chul-Moo slammed his empty fist to the ground with a loud ‘whump.’ “Tomorrow were going to take a trip to that village so you can sink your horn into her, just run in there pin her against the wall and –” he snorted violently. “If you don’t someone else will.” “But dad –” “No buts, if you’re getting the urges –” “Her mother ate the last three who tried to claim her.” Chul-Moo paused for a moment. “Sounds feisty,” he said putting down the intestine clutched in his blood soaked claw. “Think I’ll need my bludgeoning club?” he finally said. Kwan grinned. “Kidney?” Chul-Moo asked, already fishing around in the creature in front of him. Pulling out a pair of organs too covered in bodily fluids to discern, he sniffed it in a loud putrescent manner, licking some of the thick, sticky brown mess of fluids slowly flowing in a stalactitic manner through his hard fingers. Seemingly satisfied he gnawed away at the tough arteries connecting the two organs, tearing them apart with his sharp teeth and throwing one to Kwan. He tossed the small bloody mass into the air, catching it with his muscular jaws, piercing the resilient skin as he chewed; the juicy innards oozing out and into his mouth as if a grape.
He looked to the sunset behind him, realising it would soon be getting dark. He turned back to Kwan, slowly edging towards the eyeball with one of his sharp claws, freezing when he caught Chul-Moo’s piercing gaze. “Have you forgotten what happened when your brother tried stealing your mothers eyeball?” Kwan shook his head fervently. “She gouged out his eyes in return.” Slowly Kwan withdrew his claw. “And then what was I to do? I can’t very well have a blind son at my side. That woman sure does love her eye candy…” Quickly he snapped out of his reminiscence and began to pulling out clumps of grass, tying them to form a strong rope. Adeptly he tied together the cow’s feet, sliding the long spear underneath. Tucking the blade back into his belt, he took a firm grip of the wood near the head of the spear, Kwan holding the rear, and they arose to their feet. The decimated animal hung comfortably between them, spear resting on their shoulders as they began their journey into the sun and back to their camp.
“Whatever happened to those games I used to play when I was your age?” Chul-Moo began. “You mean like piñata?” “No!” he snorted. “Raising a soft-skin by their ankles, covering your eyes and hitting them with a club? That’s a child’s game.” He thought for a moment, “I remember this one we called ‘chikan.’ You ever play that?” “I don’t think so” “Oh you’d know it if you’d played it. I used to scream ‘chikan’ around other clans until someone accepted my challenge whenever I spotted a human village. You find some soft-skin with young – the smaller and sweeter the better – take a decent club and grind it into a nice thin paste, it must be thin or it’ll clog. Then grab some intestines, any of the other villagers will happily do, and fill it with the paste. Then, grab the mother and just…” he grunted emphatically. “The aim is to finish drinking before she dies; you need to find that balance between not seeming timid with them and not killing them too quickly.” Chul-Moo looked behind towards Kwan’s keen smile and let out a deep, booming chuckle. “I got through entire villages that way.” “Do the humans enjoy playing chikan too?” “Do the –” Chul Moo spluttered. “I don’t think you’ve –” “But Dad, surely there more human villages when you were my age?” “Yeah” Chul-Moo sighed. “It’s a shame we got through them so quickly; especially with your mother being so busy these days, always plotting something. What was she complaining about earlier? Something about an ‘efficy’ or ‘pofficy,’ or someth –” “Prophecy dad prophecy!” Kwan exclaimed. “She said the dark lord will soon be in our midst to take us back to the promised city, the land that should be rightfully ours!” Chul-Moo suddenly stopped, and slid the spear from his shoulder. Turning around to face Kwan he furiously roared “What did I tell you about listening to women!” Displaying all the venom of an enraged cobra, saliva dripping from his bloody fangs as he viciously thrust his powerful claw to Kwan’s neck. Vindictively squeezing until Kwan felt his eyeballs swell under the pressure, struggling for breath as he was slowly raised off the ground, his father’s heavy breathing gliding past his hard skin. Frantically, Kwan kicked out, trying to escape the intoxicating smell of decaying flesh hitting his nostrils wave after wave. “They plot and they scheme in their delusional world whilst we are left to support them; they are worthless!” Chul-Moo threw him onto the hard ground, the faintest patches of grass poking through the hard rock that littered the landscape of the desert wastelands of their homeland. Kwan rubbed his neck, left feeling tender from his fathers vice like grip. “Aren’t women good for one thing?” Kwan countered. Furiously Chul-Moo stared at his son, feeling the pent up rage drain away he proffered a small smile, much to Kwan’s relief. Getting back to his feet and with cow once again firmly placed on their shoulders they continued their journey into the rapidly falling sunset.
Darkness had fallen long before they had returned to the damp caves in which they dwelled. A gentle warm breeze brushed the cool desert sand against their stony feet, the outline of their home faintly visible through the calm mist that engulfed them. Lowering the carcass to the ground, Chul-Moo removed the spear and grassy rope holding the legs in place, raising it for Kwan to re-insert his horn into the deep laceration on the back of its neck in the traditional fashion. Staggering slightly under the weight, they continued their approach. Entering the cool, dark cave, Chul-Moo’s wife, Haneul, enthusiastically greeted them upon observing the food which they had brought her. Sliding the carcass from his horn, Kwan carefully laid it onto its side for them to feast. Chul-Moo leaned against the hard rock and stared at his wife; with deep black eyes displaying a devious grandiloquence and gentle fangs, the blood seeming to erotically dance as they slowly dripped onto the sultry curves of her hard plated skin. Those powerful thighs like an untamed beast, her copper skin glinting in the moonlight. She was the reason others envied him, and her overwhelming beauty the reason he put up with her scheming. Swaggering over, he placed his large hand firmly on her stiff shoulder. “Not in front of company,” she barked. Deftly he spun around to face a dark outline hidden in the shadows. As the previously unseen foe calmly walked forward his dark grey robes and human appearance became apparent, he slowly lowered his hood to reveal his pale purple complexion. Completely hairless, a deep scar ran along the length of his left cheek and his cold, alert eyes focussed on his own. Blinded by rage at his complacency Chul-Moo rushed forwards, taking firm grip of his robes and thrusting him high up against the cold hard rock walls of the cavern. Like a rabid dog he roared “Who are you?” Confidently, the figure gave a wry smile, his thin lips cruelly mocking him. “I thought your wife would have mentioned my arrival,” he calmly responded. Chul-Moo slowly reached for the hilt of his blade, clutching it tightly should the need for it arise. “I am Annwku. Myself and my brethren were sent to assist you.” He gestured with a free hand out of the cave. Chul-Moo slowly turned to look, and through the mist saw the faint outline of five robed figures, solemnly standing adjacent to one another, rooted to the ground, watching with their raised hoods immersing their faces in darkness. “We were sent here to ensure that the prophecy comes to fruition.” Sensing he had little choice but to trust this soft-skin he slowly lowered him back to the ground, releasing his grip. Annwku once more raised his hood, obscuring his face, and turned to Haneul. “I trust preparations have been made?” Looking up from the carcass she had ravenously been devouring, flesh still dangling from her fangs she responded, “Runners have been sent and the rendezvous arranged.” “Then we must make our way for the city.” Chul-Moo watched as Haneul arose to leave, making sure to skewer the beasts eyeball’s with her sharp claws, gently placing one in her mouth as Chul-Moo quietly grinded his teeth in frustration. If she left without him she would surely be killed, and as sure as he was that his life would be simpler without her foolhardy plotting, he did not entertain the notion of finding another wife. Reluctantly he realised that he had little choice but to entertain her scheme and return when it would inevitably fail. Withdrawing his blade, he deftly sliced through the cow’s leg in a single action, throwing it towards Kwan. “We leave,” he barked. Hacking off another leg for himself, he tucked his spear into his belt, strapped to his back, and with the leg on his shoulder they marched onwards into the night.
Chul-Moo halted and slowly crouched down into the long blades of grass, Kwan quickly following suit. Passing the spear to him he whispered “cow up ahead. Kill it and bring it back here.” Chul-Moo watched as Kwan got closer, keeping low to the ground he quietly approached the cow as it contently continued chewing. A hundred feet away, a cool gust of wind whistled past, swaying the cool grass. The cow looked up, ‘fool,’ though Chul-Moo, ‘the wind will carry your scent.’ He tried to signal to Kwan to circle around to no avail. Seventy-five feet; desperately he willed him to throw the spear before it became alerted to his presence. Fifty feet, suddenly the cow looked up, startled at the sight of the copper figure in the nearby grass it sprang to life; Kwan threw the spear before the cow could react but it was too late. Deftly he watched as his son gave chase, rapidly retrieving the spear from the soft ground it had landed in. He slowly stood up from his crouched position. ‘This could take a while,’ he thought. Looking about himself, he made his way for a nearby tree, sliding his back down the soft bark to a seated position. As the cool breeze gently caressed his horn, he slowly closed his eyes and began to rest.
Sensing a slithering sensation over his leg he slowly awoke, instinctively grabbing out with his left hand, he opened his eyes to the small snake (perhaps 4 feet in length) that had chosen to make itself known. He must have only been asleep for half an hour but already the sun was beginning to set, offering a diminishing level of light over his surroundings. The snake began to hiss at him with a venomous smile, and with powerful jaws he tore the head from the snake’s still squirming body, spitting it out at the ground nearby. Clamping down at the tail with his hard claws, he raised the snake high above his head and slid his vice like grip up the body of the snake, allowing the blood to drain into his open jaws. As the blood slowly warmed his body, he felt the last of his lethargy drain and returned to a state of alertness. Tossing the remains to the ground, he looked out onto the horizon in front of him and caught a glimpse of what could only be Kwan. Slowly he approached, focussed on the copper blur in the distance, just capable of distinguishing the outline of the cow held upright by the horn driven deep into the back of his neck, the slow trickle of blood dripping down from its deep wound. Faintly the sounds of grunting could be made out, Chul-Moo was momentarily baffled before the realisation of what depraved act he was performing dawned on him. ‘Horny bastard,’ he thought, ‘perhaps he will need a mate sooner than I anticipated.’ Uttering a deep roar that shook the trees, birds took flight into the sky and Kwan turned to face his father, a look of terror in his eyes. With Chul-Moo’s powerful legs supporting his muscular frame, he charged towards Kwan, and within moments he had succeeded in pinning him to the ground, his naked blood-soaked torso lay panting on the ground beside the slowly dying cow, clearly incapacitated by the wound it suffered to its neck and hind leg, evidently where it had been struck by the spear. He spat on Kwan’s forehead in disgust, and slowly released him.
Turning the cow to face towards him, he withdrew his blade and slowly sliced along the creature’s belly, careful not to break much further than the skin. The organs that had been kept locked inside spilled out onto on the soft grassy floor in a thick stew of blood and bile. Placing his blade on the ground, he gripped the incision he had so recently made and thrust his hard claw deep inside the recently slain beast. Feeling around inside, he gripped one the four stomachs and tore it from the barely breathing torso, a satisfying squelching sound faintly heard as he tossed it aside callously to the patch of grass nearby, the dying creature letting out a small, fading pant as each stomach was removed in turn. Ripping out the barely beating heart, the cow displayed one last final wide-eyed stare before finally succumbing to deaths fatal embrace, the last of the blood sputtering out from the heart, splashing onto his leg and the nearby grass. “Eat,” he barked, tossing the heart to Kwan. Dragging part of the long intestine out for himself, he bit off a large chunk and began to chew the tough meat, blood squirting down his long canines and dripping from his hard chin.
He looked towards his son, gingerly gnawing away at the tough heart with an upset look on his face. “You realise we were to eat that creature you were defiling?” he growled. Solemnly, Kwan nodded. “Luckily were giving that to your mother,” Kwan’s startled gaze darted towards him. “You won’t –” “I’m not going to tell her.” Chun-Moo muttered. “The earful I’d get from that whore? Not worth the effort.” He tore off another chunk of intestine, wiping the blood from his chin with the back of his hand. “But what were you thinking?” Kwan looked down to the ground. “Surely there’s some unclaimed woman that’s caught your eye?” “Well…” Kwan started, “There is one but we don’t visit her clan very often.” Chul-Moo slammed his empty fist to the ground with a loud ‘whump.’ “Tomorrow were going to take a trip to that village so you can sink your horn into her, just run in there pin her against the wall and –” he snorted violently. “If you don’t someone else will.” “But dad –” “No buts, if you’re getting the urges –” “Her mother ate the last three who tried to claim her.” Chul-Moo paused for a moment. “Sounds feisty,” he said putting down the intestine clutched in his blood soaked claw. “Think I’ll need my bludgeoning club?” he finally said. Kwan grinned. “Kidney?” Chul-Moo asked, already fishing around in the creature in front of him. Pulling out a pair of organs too covered in bodily fluids to discern, he sniffed it in a loud putrescent manner, licking some of the thick, sticky brown mess of fluids slowly flowing in a stalactitic manner through his hard fingers. Seemingly satisfied he gnawed away at the tough arteries connecting the two organs, tearing them apart with his sharp teeth and throwing one to Kwan. He tossed the small bloody mass into the air, catching it with his muscular jaws, piercing the resilient skin as he chewed; the juicy innards oozing out and into his mouth as if a grape.
He looked to the sunset behind him, realising it would soon be getting dark. He turned back to Kwan, slowly edging towards the eyeball with one of his sharp claws, freezing when he caught Chul-Moo’s piercing gaze. “Have you forgotten what happened when your brother tried stealing your mothers eyeball?” Kwan shook his head fervently. “She gouged out his eyes in return.” Slowly Kwan withdrew his claw. “And then what was I to do? I can’t very well have a blind son at my side. That woman sure does love her eye candy…” Quickly he snapped out of his reminiscence and began to pulling out clumps of grass, tying them to form a strong rope. Adeptly he tied together the cow’s feet, sliding the long spear underneath. Tucking the blade back into his belt, he took a firm grip of the wood near the head of the spear, Kwan holding the rear, and they arose to their feet. The decimated animal hung comfortably between them, spear resting on their shoulders as they began their journey into the sun and back to their camp.
“Whatever happened to those games I used to play when I was your age?” Chul-Moo began. “You mean like piñata?” “No!” he snorted. “Raising a soft-skin by their ankles, covering your eyes and hitting them with a club? That’s a child’s game.” He thought for a moment, “I remember this one we called ‘chikan.’ You ever play that?” “I don’t think so” “Oh you’d know it if you’d played it. I used to scream ‘chikan’ around other clans until someone accepted my challenge whenever I spotted a human village. You find some soft-skin with young – the smaller and sweeter the better – take a decent club and grind it into a nice thin paste, it must be thin or it’ll clog. Then grab some intestines, any of the other villagers will happily do, and fill it with the paste. Then, grab the mother and just…” he grunted emphatically. “The aim is to finish drinking before she dies; you need to find that balance between not seeming timid with them and not killing them too quickly.” Chul-Moo looked behind towards Kwan’s keen smile and let out a deep, booming chuckle. “I got through entire villages that way.” “Do the humans enjoy playing chikan too?” “Do the –” Chul Moo spluttered. “I don’t think you’ve –” “But Dad, surely there more human villages when you were my age?” “Yeah” Chul-Moo sighed. “It’s a shame we got through them so quickly; especially with your mother being so busy these days, always plotting something. What was she complaining about earlier? Something about an ‘efficy’ or ‘pofficy,’ or someth –” “Prophecy dad prophecy!” Kwan exclaimed. “She said the dark lord will soon be in our midst to take us back to the promised city, the land that should be rightfully ours!” Chul-Moo suddenly stopped, and slid the spear from his shoulder. Turning around to face Kwan he furiously roared “What did I tell you about listening to women!” Displaying all the venom of an enraged cobra, saliva dripping from his bloody fangs as he viciously thrust his powerful claw to Kwan’s neck. Vindictively squeezing until Kwan felt his eyeballs swell under the pressure, struggling for breath as he was slowly raised off the ground, his father’s heavy breathing gliding past his hard skin. Frantically, Kwan kicked out, trying to escape the intoxicating smell of decaying flesh hitting his nostrils wave after wave. “They plot and they scheme in their delusional world whilst we are left to support them; they are worthless!” Chul-Moo threw him onto the hard ground, the faintest patches of grass poking through the hard rock that littered the landscape of the desert wastelands of their homeland. Kwan rubbed his neck, left feeling tender from his fathers vice like grip. “Aren’t women good for one thing?” Kwan countered. Furiously Chul-Moo stared at his son, feeling the pent up rage drain away he proffered a small smile, much to Kwan’s relief. Getting back to his feet and with cow once again firmly placed on their shoulders they continued their journey into the rapidly falling sunset.
Darkness had fallen long before they had returned to the damp caves in which they dwelled. A gentle warm breeze brushed the cool desert sand against their stony feet, the outline of their home faintly visible through the calm mist that engulfed them. Lowering the carcass to the ground, Chul-Moo removed the spear and grassy rope holding the legs in place, raising it for Kwan to re-insert his horn into the deep laceration on the back of its neck in the traditional fashion. Staggering slightly under the weight, they continued their approach. Entering the cool, dark cave, Chul-Moo’s wife, Haneul, enthusiastically greeted them upon observing the food which they had brought her. Sliding the carcass from his horn, Kwan carefully laid it onto its side for them to feast. Chul-Moo leaned against the hard rock and stared at his wife; with deep black eyes displaying a devious grandiloquence and gentle fangs, the blood seeming to erotically dance as they slowly dripped onto the sultry curves of her hard plated skin. Those powerful thighs like an untamed beast, her copper skin glinting in the moonlight. She was the reason others envied him, and her overwhelming beauty the reason he put up with her scheming. Swaggering over, he placed his large hand firmly on her stiff shoulder. “Not in front of company,” she barked. Deftly he spun around to face a dark outline hidden in the shadows. As the previously unseen foe calmly walked forward his dark grey robes and human appearance became apparent, he slowly lowered his hood to reveal his pale purple complexion. Completely hairless, a deep scar ran along the length of his left cheek and his cold, alert eyes focussed on his own. Blinded by rage at his complacency Chul-Moo rushed forwards, taking firm grip of his robes and thrusting him high up against the cold hard rock walls of the cavern. Like a rabid dog he roared “Who are you?” Confidently, the figure gave a wry smile, his thin lips cruelly mocking him. “I thought your wife would have mentioned my arrival,” he calmly responded. Chul-Moo slowly reached for the hilt of his blade, clutching it tightly should the need for it arise. “I am Annwku. Myself and my brethren were sent to assist you.” He gestured with a free hand out of the cave. Chul-Moo slowly turned to look, and through the mist saw the faint outline of five robed figures, solemnly standing adjacent to one another, rooted to the ground, watching with their raised hoods immersing their faces in darkness. “We were sent here to ensure that the prophecy comes to fruition.” Sensing he had little choice but to trust this soft-skin he slowly lowered him back to the ground, releasing his grip. Annwku once more raised his hood, obscuring his face, and turned to Haneul. “I trust preparations have been made?” Looking up from the carcass she had ravenously been devouring, flesh still dangling from her fangs she responded, “Runners have been sent and the rendezvous arranged.” “Then we must make our way for the city.” Chul-Moo watched as Haneul arose to leave, making sure to skewer the beasts eyeball’s with her sharp claws, gently placing one in her mouth as Chul-Moo quietly grinded his teeth in frustration. If she left without him she would surely be killed, and as sure as he was that his life would be simpler without her foolhardy plotting, he did not entertain the notion of finding another wife. Reluctantly he realised that he had little choice but to entertain her scheme and return when it would inevitably fail. Withdrawing his blade, he deftly sliced through the cow’s leg in a single action, throwing it towards Kwan. “We leave,” he barked. Hacking off another leg for himself, he tucked his spear into his belt, strapped to his back, and with the leg on his shoulder they marched onwards into the night.
Comments
Post a Comment