The refugee camp was in turmoil as we entered. Above the camp, a red fog hung in patches, casting an eerie canopy of light. We passed between the tents, stepping carefully over tangled bodies. Red tendrils spilled from lifeless mouths.
Just casually walking along through all the carnage, huh? Never mind Guinevere is dead asleep (probably) and Lancelet is probably trying to protect her while Hawl is trying to protect the kids or some shit… just take your sweet time seeing the sights…
