Dawn came slow over the mountain range.
The kind of dawn that arrives apologetically — pale gold seeping between peaks, the forest below still dark and breathing, the pond catching the first light in silver fragments that scattered and settled and scattered again.
The hut did not notice the dawn.
The hut was occupied.
Slap. Slap. Slap.
Wet. Heavy. Rhythmic. The sound of a man who had been awake since before the light and had no intention of stopping because of something as irrelevant as sunrise.
PAH! PAH! PAH!
"N-NO MORE~!! MASTER~!! PLEASE~!! AAANGHH~!!"
PAH! PAH!
"OUR BODIES~!! WE'RE DYING~!! HIIEEK~!! AAAHH~!!"
All three of them were stacked.
