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Lucky for him, then, that you had plenty. You managed to note down so much-- diet, in-depth description of detail, quick friendship with Florian, the odd obsession with cloth-making and silk-spewing, speculation on what the two lumps upon its forehead could be used for and why it kept rubbing them on Mary and your shoe-- that you even had the time to add many more names for many more creatures on the walk to the next town.
You did all this, partially, to distract.
To distract from the birds taking special interest in your bug, and Mary's fierce defense of your new friend, her growing talent impressing and alarming you with how much more powerful her thunderous strikes seemed to be,
To distract from Florian's odd <span class="mu-i">crying</span> from time to time, the slightly-acidic tears he spilt staining your shirt pocket, demanding to be picked up or put down or taken away from Steele's mole, his childlike demands brewing dread as you realized how much of a handful he was being,
To distract from the odd... bullet, or random bit of debris, or chipped brick strewn across the ground.
The closer you thought you were to civilization, the more prominent this seemed to be. Random patches of brown or black grass, bits of broken wood or shattered glass, spent cartridges alongside broken glasses and torn bits of fabric.
The most unnerving part of it all was the blood.
The wayward splatters upon the soil. The stained scraps of cloth. Every other sharper edge being coated in the stuff.
It reminded you of the aftermath of the steel bird attacks in Shenanigan's Gulch. After the Stars of Death had finally spared you and you were shown all the carnage they'd wrought. All that was missing here was the odd burning building or two...
"Buchanan, up ahead."
Steele spoke for what felt like the first time in forever, despite your mutual conversation about dinner just ten minutes earlier. "I think that's..."
He stopped for a moment, seemingly speechless, but caught his hesitance and continued. "...that's supposed to be Red Bluff, I believe."
Another pause. You saw his line of sight drift towards a tree with a ripped knot fastened onto a branch. There was a wheel beneath it. Nothing out of the ordinary, so why was he focusing on it?
As you two began to approach Red Bluff (<span class="mu-r">population: 2,000 and rising!</span>)... the reason for Steele's caution became more clear.
There were dents in building walls. Some weaker buildings had splinters, also laced with blood. Despite this the town was rather well-put together: a shocking amount of it was clean, homely, and full of life.
That life, however... there was something wrong with it.