Dawnlark Plains street carp

he is drawn from the rise like a cobra, hypnotized by the melody of its charmer.

there has been activity in the valley. he finds the trails of a few passerby, and gleans whatever information he can.

no traces are redd’s.

with optimism repeatedly gutted by the sharp blade of failure, he vows not to make the same mistake again;

he will not search. he will not search for her.

but nonetheless he figures he might as well wander further, to see what may find him.

the berserkr prowls through the tall grass.