Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-5543592-20190809183350/@comment-5543592-20190915185329

Over the hill, they could see the heads of wolves--as pelts, mantles worn by very fit, very bloodthristy looking tribals, who ran with spears in hand.

They ran in ranks, and the first wave that poured over the hill was easily thirty or so in number. Right behind them was a sea of hunters, the grey of their pelts blending in with those around.

"Fucking Montana!" Josey was shouting as he ran past Shanks and Naomi.