The wind is blowing, howling like stray wolves in the darkness, leaves rustle as if answering to the wind’s whims. My rafter room feels even colder and I huddle at the end of my couch - deer skins stuffed with stolen wool, a heavy blanket covering my body apart from the face. The embers at the fire place flicker to reassure me that everything’s going to be okay, but they aren’t doing enough to keep the room warm. I reminisce about the recent past. A lot has happened since I decided to delve into the wild; the city of Mabanga had become a nightmare for me with every passing month. The city’s people were like vampires, baying for my ‘pure’ blood.
It fits @kawambui. Continue from here or write anything.