s2
Sets out trekking early not even an hour the shrieks of a toddler in a clearing by rushing stream stops him cold what happened. Had it lain the night in timber wilds poor thing in throes lone survivor. had trekked days already failed to pack enough grub strayed in search of twisty old poet's trail obscured by fallen trees reach forsaken cabin veiled in creepers sweep broken porch stoke fire sup on crusts sleep in forest depths till dawn unsure of position thin odds reaching outpost by dusk I'll be sleeping rough again tonight nearing horrid infant boy squirming on brittle red dirt swollen faced filthy rags in frenzied claw over frozen loam flinching flailing raging to high heaven screaming in catagorical terror halt at muted distance take seat on forest floor - how did you get here little rōnin frond poking up from mum's carpet of needles where is she by the way what happened? - torn. vanquished task complete fiction finito duty discharged that's it vamoo...