Basla wasn't even sure if the other tribes were still pursuing him. But he couldn't risk it. So, he continued running. Even when his legs burned, and his breath carried the taste of blood, he continued running and stumbling through the forest.
He didn't know how long or how far he had run. He didn't know where he had run, either. He just knew that he had run deeper into the forest. Or maybe not. He was pretty disoriented.
Eventually, he could run no more and fell to the ground. Through his dazed vision, though, he saw a pair of shadowy things moving toward him. Legs?
***
Old Man Rem looked at the skinny figure sitting in a corner of the bar. He was doing a good job of not grabbing attention. But he still couldn't hide his arrogance and straight back. It was a popular bar for criminals since it was located in the depths of the slums.
