[Another flash comes, of terrifying masks that smile in hideous contortions of what might be considered a friendly manner. An idea, like a spike, is embedded with it. Masked figures are to be honored. A knife flashes in the dark, a sense of threat, rising, tightening within his throat. An image of Neria, shrouded in white, something about the shape of her unmistakably wrong. A sense of confusion, and approval. Inhuman shapes are to be honored. A vast block of sandstone, crumbling rapidly. In the desert is danger. In fire, danger. Shun the hot places. Drown the heat. ]
no subject