Facing me means you've got guts.
I'll give you that!
However in the eyes of the Hunter, prey ready to be butchered is all I see.
Once the hunt begins, pray to god.
There is no life for those who don't struggle.
And as a trophy for our creator.
Lets keep your damage to a minimal presentable style kay?
— The Huntress of The Evil God, Sheila
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[The land is but a hallmark of treatment to life. Devoid of such and those who reside on it seek the vitality of life in any way.]
The landscape stretched on endlessly.
Yet in front a sizable city stood alone in ash.
[Satiation never comes. Only yearning. Even that was born from the desire of life.]
"...."
[Of course, it would not be, had the war never existed.]
The Guide walked slowly. As if savoring each step.
"Then why does it exist?"
The adolescent begrudgingly trudged behind with a snappy mouth.
[Only the victor knows.]
The adolescent grumbled under his breath.
[Many hypothesise why it came to be. riches, land, food, superstitions, divine retribution, conquest…]
"Can't it be all of them?"
[Certainly. Or none at all.]
The adolescent narrowed their eyes.
The wanderer trailing behind the adolescent with their eyes glued to the rocky terrain they were traveling on nonetheless had both ears open listening.
[With nothing but rumors and assumptions from others, a hazy picture forms. The end result a fruitless gathering.]
"Is it not still something?"
[Merely confined thinking defined by the time. But of course, neither is it wrong. In fact, one sees an invader or aggressor as associated with wanting something.]
The cold in the air grew stronger.
The Guide still walked at the same pace with the sun going down. Furred hand holding the staff.
[What one wants depends on desire. And when it comes to desire, we overstep boundaries for it.]
"Hm."
In this land of once snow, all that came was a searing cold.
A wind that held the throes of the land.