Starglow Basin The jungle

it was a grand idea; for a moment soto's mind is silent with the vision --

osiel, claws curled around his throne of stone. millers, workers, tillers, runners all -- a hive of activity buzzing behind him while meanwhile the drones carried something red and nearly identifiable into the honeycomb grid; so intimately familiar that at first the mind does not wish to acknowledge it is the pulp of men -- their bones and gristle and blood and all -- that fuel this empiric nightmare.

far away from where either stood, a lone owl sent its mournful cry into the muted dusk. como desées. he concedes with a bow; whatever osiel dictated would be so.