Dragoncrest Cliffs i like the sprinter better.

no relatives, good. 
that makes this morally grey area
of sifting through dead bodies
just ever slightly better. 

he shrugs out his round shoulders. 
he can’t possibly hyperanalyze
the good and bad of every interaction. 
that’s way too much energy and brain power,
for a dude like him 
who just wants the simple things in life 
like good food
good company
and the warmth of a loving woman. 

okay then. he says
more to himself than sobeille
she’d already left, and he watches
as she ducks into the treeline. 

whatever. 
he grunts and leaves the rotted fin,
head held high with his newest prize
the fish flopping up and down
as he jauntily made back to camp
kheviel’s gonna fucking love this.