Felltree Marsh we're never even born

a low grunt of greeting is offered; a return to the desire to be antisocial outside of ingram's highly selective social circle ...of which consisted solely of trikova and morgana.

for a wild moment, ingram wonders if this regression back into familiar habits was what the unnamed god had in mind — and then cast the thought aside. he was not holy enough to commune with the unnamed god: he was merely the fangs of trikova. the weapon and shield that would protect the druids at any and all costs.

no, ingram replies. a beat is given and then another; realizing that the air he gives off his cold and closed off. i came upon you. in such, wouldn't ingram be the one intruding?

not much out here to be intruding upon. except perhaps the ghosts of the unfortunate creatures who got stuck and died by the muck of the marsh.