No one stirred as Famine and Devon reached the mausoleum. The storms here had been going on for a while. The road was slick and muddy as they approached the parked cart. It looked like Ankou had decided to keep his ass there, thought Famine, just like the lazy leech.
Devon hopped into the passenger’s side of the wagon and called out in a low voice. “Come on! Get it and let’s go!”
Famine looked cautiously around. He peered from the cart to the mausoleum and back to Devon. The rain was picking up pace. He wished he hadn’t worn the tank top. The shirt was now plastered to his emaciated body like a second skin but fashion wasn’t paramount in his mind at the moment. A more important peak had to be climbed and vanquished. The choice between duty to family and duty to self had to be made. With that choice, he would be able to scale any height. He gave the mausoleum one last look and went for the cart. Duty to self be praised.
“Let’s ride,” said Devon as Famine got in beside him.
Famine picked up the reins and clicked his tongue. The rickety cart started off down the mired lane with some difficulty. Perhaps this was the wrong day to suddenly start being rebellious…damned weather. Why had he let this beautiful young man charm him into doing something he would’ve never have done in a thousand years? At the moment, it wasn’t important. Getting away was. Trudging through the thick mire, the two teenagers rode towards the Borderlands with delight.