“Hey, you. Sand Shifter.”
Ista turned and saw an angry rover storming towards him,
drawing a knife as he neared.
“What do you want,” he responded, drawing his own knife.
“I’m the last of the Buzzards,” the man said, stopping
just out of reach. A crowd had begun to gather.
“So?”
“You wiped out my tribe and now I’m going to dress you
like a fresh kill.”
“We’ll see about that,” Ista said, charging forward with
knife extended.
The stranger rushed in. Between them they created a
whirlwind of slashes, forcing the crowd to widen the circle around the
fighters.
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