Rass Honskeller

I looked up from my sketch as Professor Yakkingtons breathing deepened and his ear twitched. Someone was stalking our camp. I pulled my pack closer, pulling out a bottle of wine while adjusting the small knife next to it.

“Come sit with us, warm yourself. We can share some stories over a bottle. " I spoke softly into the darkness, reinforced only by a low grunt from Yakkington.

fuck the formatting here

Rass Honskeller

The uhhh.... Stuff Rilack Rilack