This November in the Gray Sea Marsh was quite different from previous years.
In years past, the people of the Gray Swamp would be busy trapping rats and wild rabbits to smoke the last batch of game, preparing for the long, cold winter.
But this year, aside from children playing with them, no one paid any mind to the plump sparrows in town.
A sparrow, a stalk of black rye in its beak, fluttered down onto a branch, the weight of it shaking loose a flurry of withered yellow leaves.
The leaves spiraled down onto the white stone-paved road, where a sanitation worker was sweeping trash to the side of a shop's main entrance.
The door was pushed open by three unfamiliar faces, letting in a gust of cool autumn wind.
Hearing the sound, Tumo looked up and grinned. "Welcome to 'Brothers, Boars, and Beer'!"
A sallow and gaunt middle-aged man looked at Tumo. "Boss, I hear your mashed potatoes are the best in town?"
