The water was waist-high, it rushed past him, around him, running forth and playing; he wasn’t playing, but the water surely was. … Like a damned lunatic, he ran toward Tremmel, a white-hot burn embedded itself into his tattoo.
Grimwood climbs the mountains of Rangforne, in search of … something. For love for life, where the powerful rise and fall, into the wilds of Rangforne we go.
A hiss. Soft, sharp, and silenced with a swiftness. He could feel the warmth that bled through the dry rag he held. Ezrano watched closely, any pull in the metal, any misbehavior. Not all metal acted the same. …
I wrote In Dusted Land, a Grimwood Tale, for a contest on #steemit. It’s a quick read, minor adult language. Any feedback is good to improve! Thank you.