Phoenix
There were tremors in the west they had not been witness to before. The man, the woman, the children. In the decayed base of what was once a great tower they huddled and cooked the day's kill. The bear that would feed them, its hide fashioned into their tunics and the bones their tools. Adorning weapons of sharpened metal shafts trodding on the path with their feet. They had been moving from the eastern mountains down over a vast ocean of hillcountry. Spare and fallow in the early cold. Soot in the wind that lashed your face. A night blanket over the tall grass prairie, thunderous and entwined with lightning bolts. They watched as they walked the serpentine fingers articulate and snap down to touch the trees with smoke and fire. The breath of the gods. Judgement. Their bearing followed the hard black ground whose trail swerved about in every direction their compass rose could indicate. The prized and rare memento rusted orange and glass cracked and broken and repaired perhaps a hun...