Gray World

We descended from the building with a light gait. I skipped down the stairs and traipsed through the doors of the main building that the people of the 'Grasslands' had created. Trapped underneath my intact arm was the head of the leader of the 'Grasslands' encased in a blanket. Well preserved. It was a good gift.

Though I had been saying gift over and over, the biggest reason I wanted to do this remained that 'Grasslands' pissed me off a fair bit too. But well, the advantage it would give me when I eventually have to negotiate with Qasim would be big. Owe him or not, that person is a fucking jackass, after all. You have to talk to jackasses in the language of jackasses to avoid any jackassery. Wise words.

As I turned around the door of the building, a sight comparable to the carnage in Elisbonear unfolded in front of me.