Luneshale Pass lokma

it’s never when things are easy. soto sits upright as kemal’s long shadow bristles onto the scene, a chargeweight of menacing malice. 

no pleasantries need exchanging; this duel is older than even the stones beneath their feet. 

mourning must pass to the wayside. soto’s chin lifts. 

his body tense. 

go on then. urges the burning contempt in his single remaining eye.