Red Wind
By The Lady of Pax
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The strong wind blew the crimson cloth tightly across his body.
Crimson the color of his blood. How many times had he shed his blood on this coat. His blood...shed to protect the blood of others. His blood...it's not human blood...but it's that same crimson shade.
The coat offered no warmth from the bitter cold... Why did he wear it... He didn't know exactly, sentimental reasons maybe. Who knows.
He continued to walk across the desert, the large moon hung in the sky oposite its smaller sister. The wind blew again and the sand swirled up in little tornado like clouds.
His boots crunched in the sand and he shoved his duffel bag higher, how long till he reached the next town.
How long till he could pretend to be someone else.
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