Luneshale Pass perla

a headless body topples on itself into the mud. soto inspects its grisly end.  a heron, dispatched here on the fertile banks where the red of its blood joins the river. 

he leaves the kill, suspicious of the teeth that marked it. as he moves south the scrubland dries out, and the scent of his brother lingers on the wind. 

he turns his head back in a strung howl, more owl-like than wolf — the secret summons call for @Juarez.