His expression is hard to read; the bones of his face are very still under all their mugging furrows. Perspiration prickles dark at his chops, grimy and slick in the creases of his neck. There’s the wind through the grass, the peeling calls of seabirds.
He reaches to tuck the crystal away on his belt. ]
no subject
[ He ends the connection.
His expression is hard to read; the bones of his face are very still under all their mugging furrows. Perspiration prickles dark at his chops, grimy and slick in the creases of his neck. There’s the wind through the grass, the peeling calls of seabirds.
He reaches to tuck the crystal away on his belt. ]