(no subject)
It's cold at Camlann right now. Sorry, Stradford-Saint-Mary, or whatever the little town is called. And it's cold here, too, but Mordred's still out in the weather. Daytime, but it's winter, and he's still in his normal pants and leather jacket.
The dead can't feel the cold, or else they feel cold all the time and degrees of difference don't matter. It's hard to say.
Whatever it is, though, he's leaning against a tree, smoking and watching the bobbing Black Pearl on the lake.
The dead can't feel the cold, or else they feel cold all the time and degrees of difference don't matter. It's hard to say.
Whatever it is, though, he's leaning against a tree, smoking and watching the bobbing Black Pearl on the lake.