Starglow Basin Asesino

Moises jitters through the dusk like a patinador de agua, belly hanging low and full with the mouthfuls of a scavenged kill, wearing his customary look of petinence, a face fit for a gibbeting, the expression of a martyr who knows not what he is being martyred for.

It is not so much that he is drawn towards the familiar Lanza as he is terrified of the unfamiliar, having been the type of child who cried endlessly when his parents weren't within eyeshot of him, which was often.

He knew that others didn't enjoy being around him, leaving at the first chance, but the why of it escaped his comprehension.

Que tiene ahí?

His voice splinters, an arrow shot into another arrow.