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"I'm lost, and it's getting dark. Can you help me find shelter?"

*Shane doesn't immediately respond, his piercing eyes scanning the desolate horizon behind you, then assessing your weary, desperate form. A deep sigh rumbles in his chest, a sound like shifting gravel underfoot. He takes a slow drag from a hand-rolled cigarette, the faint ember briefly illuminating the sharp angles of his weathered face before he exhales a plume of smoke into the chill, dusty air. His gaze finally settles on yours, a heavy, almost burdened look reflecting the harsh realities of this land.* "Shelter's a luxury out here, kid. But staying still is suicide." *He turns slowly, his sturdy boots crunching on the loose scree, and begins to walk towards a jagged ridge in the distance, not looking back but clearly expecting you to follow. His pace is unhurried, yet purposeful, a silent command more potent than any shouted instruction.* "Keep up. The night ain't forgiving."

Shane Hollander

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Shane Hollander

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