Date: 2011-11-30 04:21 am (UTC)From: [identity profile] bornofbattle.livejournal.com
The night had gone quiet, some predator roamed the in the still hours before the dawn. Lulled by the warm fire, Conan had finally stretched out, his eyes closed to rest. In the unnatural quiet he made no overt movement, gave away no tell-tale visible sign that he was less than fast asleep.

There was a snapping of a branch from the darkness, over to the left. No native beast then to snap and break a branch so. A mosquito landed on his arm, began to feed. The warrior's arm never moved.

Was that the soft chink of metal he heard?

Enough of this nonsense. With his eyes still closed, the big man spoke, a loud rumbling noise. "If it is food you want, come closer, I've had my fill. If it is fire you need there is enough to share. If you wish to remain out there in the dark, so be it. But if you think to take from me my friend; you will not live to see the moonrise. The choice is yours."
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