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Post by Sabine har Rodrae on Mar 16, 2006 13:48:23 GMT -5
The burning fields... Sabine sat upon the wretched remains of a vehicle, and observed: Fire. Smoldering corpses. In death it was hard to tell if they were hara or human; just bones and ash, and papery skin. Mummies. There was no rot. Just the rancid scent of burnt meat and clothing. All around him were the dead. It was a scene from hell. But here was where the young har felt most comftorble to write, and it was far enough from Rodrae turf that the buzz from the psychic web was quieter, though it was still considered a 'safe' place.
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Post by Sabine har Rodrae on Mar 21, 2006 15:01:07 GMT -5
For an hour, perhaps two, he sat, and wrote. And then he got to his feet, and jumped from the car to the ground, and left. He did not make any attempt to steal a corpse, or profane this place and yet, he knew that once he was gone someone would double-check to make sure the corpses had been undisturbed. Because he was Rodrae.
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