09-18-2018, 09:52 PM
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His reception was... mixed. Dagon looked down at the bodies, the smell of smoke atractting him. How the fuck do people know where our camp is? No one keep secrets around here? Dagon wished that part of the "thing" with living in Snowbound was surviving the climate. Survival was vital here, the prey wasn't as flourishing and they had even less in terms of herbs. These kind of things made Snowbound vunerable and he wished that people couldn't just fucking waltz into their villiage.
This stranger had left them food. Vital, succulent food. It was fucking charring before his eyes, and Dagon attempted to throw snow over it to dampen it. They needed this food, it couldn't be shared. Either this was a congratulations or a future warning.
This stranger had left them food. Vital, succulent food. It was fucking charring before his eyes, and Dagon attempted to throw snow over it to dampen it. They needed this food, it couldn't be shared. Either this was a congratulations or a future warning.
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