Black Morass i. wanderlust

joining @Ione @Kovictus

through bog and mist, a gladiator clad in black marches alone. word of his crime followed him even into venenum, and so he set off. said he had to chase the lost prince. it's been months.

crooked nose raised high to catch a scent. a city. he didn't cross their borders. he calls in a low, rich song, for the gatekeepers.