Dawnlark Plains he's right, i am a murderer

he had some blood-intimacy to territories north of where he faced now. he didn't entertain the reminders when they annexed whatever one-track idea he played out, placing it in the front of his mind.
to keep moving.
he chanced upon a lonely pioneer, a nomad with no tools. the stag was aware of the swordsman's weaknesses, but he didn't show it. the man made his presence known with a crunch of snow.
an unassuming gaze clocked straight ahead.