I heard a bleating scream from outside the wagon and peered out the back, Gint at my elbow. ‘Bramblehorn,’ he muttered. ‘Stinking beasts.’ Bramblehorns were akin to sheep, though their thick, shaggy, coarse wool was the colour of moss, and their curling horns were barbed and deadly looking. The animals were hardy and capable of surviving even the most adverse conditions. They also didn’t like being herded.
Dark Harvest by Josh Reynolds ( @occultdetectives )











