Smoke drifted skyward carrying the aroma of fresh meat into the night air. Around them, the mist hung like a stranger stopped at the door. The fire repelled the mist, the savanna's roaming beasts, and the faceless man. With a full belly, Ronan kept a wary eye trained on the mist rolling in from the north. Toward the forest where, hours ago, the faceless man had ended Tarbin's life. Distant chatter and the blare of some exotic beast rolled across the savanna. General Demos stood over the fire prodding the meat with a stick. The general appeared no more tired than when they'd awoken from camp a day earlier. Despite his exhaustion, he couldn't sleep. Not with the faceless man roaming the mist and the savanna’s strange beasts lurking in the shadows. All waiting for them to rest their heads and close their eyes. All waiting to strike. "Are you going to sleep?" He glanced toward the moon hanging low in the western sky. "It'll be morning in a few hours. One of us should sleep." "On this night, sleep won't find me human," General Demos said.
