If Dravi was nearly as good with a knife as he was at charming food out of the women, Rastaban might have been afraid, but he was busy seeking out the ultimate kill - a large cat or maybe a wolf. Most of the boys would come home with practical kills, the sort to be made into food, but wolf pelts were very warm, and Rastaban wanted one of his own.
He was ready for it when Dravi rustled through the grass to his left, and when the first swipe of the blade came, Rastaban dodged. He was no one’s prey.
1 comment:
Dravi's going to regret that....
Post a Comment