Group 1:10 Kit FarsonKit sat on point with Dingo, surrounded by autumn sunlight. Dappled shadows danced as the cool wind spiraled leaves from the trees. Kit shivered and cradled his rifle, hoping the caravan would get a move on. The sooner it passed through, the sooner it didn't need scouts watching for walkers.
"So, um, y'see anythin'?" Dingo said.
Kit sighed. "If the dogs ain't upset, things are fine, Ding. You gonna ask that every five minutes?"
Beggar and Bodkin playfully wrestled on a bed of leaves, snorting. Kit could almost forget Bodkin staggering out of the hospital, a good ten pounds of human flesh bulging in his stomach, with blood around his muz Group 1:10 Kit Farson
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