The night wind was cold and chilly.
All three moons shone brightly in the valley, each with a unique light that differed from the others but not in a way that made it any less brilliant than the others.
You could even say, the three complimented each other. The scene was harmonious, serene, and beautiful.
The sixty-something-year-old man hiding in the ravine could argue otherwise.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He kept swearing in pain.
Cuts of all depths and sizes crisscrossed all over the man's body like a hideous decoration.
His clothes were all bloody; partly because of the cuts but mostly due to the bleeding cavity where his right arm was supposed to be.
All that remained of the man's right hand was a short stump starting from the bicep going up!
Whatever had cut off his arm had done it so immaculately, straight and clean through the bone and everything!