Hideaway Strath A Test Of Faith.

Was anything more well documented than Sunhawk's stupidity?

He'd heard a scream, and instead of running like any person with an ounce of sense would do, Sunhawk did the opposite. He investigated. His good Samaritan instincts landed him smack-dab in a gathering befit for the Manson family: a gaggle of wolves encircling a downy brown furred wolf, with a giant leading them.

The giant. The guy with the gangrene mouth. Sunhawk was disappointed to see the man's face present and accounted for. He'd kind of hoped in the back of his mind the gangrene had taken over and turned the scary man into just another skeleton at the bottom of Bonesplinter. Alas.

If anyone had given him the willies, it was Donovan Azura, chief Freaky of the Redsand Tribe. Why was he here - and better yet, where was that daggermouthed viper he kept as a pet?

Yee. Bad vibes from this crew. Sunhawk visibly flinched as the brute turned to the girl and began attacking. Then another joined, and another.

Smart Sunhawk (who doesn't exist) would take one look at the cult following and he'd make his exit. Dumb Sunhawk (very much alive and real thank ya) stared open mouth at the bloodbath until a dark-hued lady with a beige ruff suddenly came to life like a dragon, roaring over the din with inferno in her voice. Well fuck - that lady was scary, but all Sunhawk could do was stand there as if Donald Glover with a pizza box in his hand while the world turned to fire about him. And a poor girl was murdered. Let's focus on the girl - who even kills girls?! Psychopaths.

"Oi! What the fuck is going on here?"