She searched the sled’s blankets as Dru untied a small sack of dried meat.
“The knife’s been handy. The bag squealed for a week after you died, and been useless since.”
Cryton smiled as she found and lifted a satchel of aged pigskin. “Yeah, that sounds like the Sow’s Ear.”
Copyright © 2019 by Jason H. Abbott, All Rights Reserved.
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