Redsand Canyon that’s why i’m calling you back on my way through.

gone were the tantalizing threads of song, lost like spring sun to stormheads. qiao focused her attention in full on this man bruised by his own burdensome masculine adolescence. rough, cold, every bit as gracile as a shark. 

what is your name? qiao answered back, unaffected by the repellant thrust of his brusque manner. if she were so fragile when it came to men and their thorny dispositions, qiao would have rotted on the roadside long ago.