Twisted Slough enshrined in crematoria

Lasher spoke quietly, and the moment his father began to lead the way, the youthful man followed suit. His gaze would drift between his companions, though not linger upon any of them. Devastation came from the lands in waves, and the dark Mayfair’s movements were slower than usual, his energy far gone.
 
His ears perked at the sound of the gentle trickle of water, and as his fiery eyes fell upon the stream, his eyes sought out the potential for fish, wondering if they lived within the shallow waters of the stream. Anything would do right now – the desperation was becoming more real each passing day.