fungus hung from the serried hinder shell. This dull and craggy dreamcreature, dark blood draining. Do they ever sink? The turtlehunter charged his rifle from a yellowed horn and slid a fresh ball down the bore. He recapped the lock, cradling the piece in his armcrook. Some does, some dont. Quiet now, they be anothern directly. What do you do with them? Sell em for soup. Or whatever. The boy was watching the dead surface of the river. Turkles and dumplins if ye’ve a mind to. They’s seven kinds of meat in one. What do turtles eat?
