Redsand Canyon i will always think about you,

try as you might, it will flatten you. qiao followed with a nod. there was no escape from the scrawling hand of fate.

she pushed a nailprint into the dirt absentmindedly. at this time of the year, everything was in short supply. the months of harvesting were often summer and late fall -- with the doldrums of winter subsisting entirely on reserves.

horsetail. it took the herbalist several seconds to place the herb: how long since she had used, or even seen it? "i do not see them here." qiao admitted with a frown. "what did she wish them for?"