T25.116 The Tentweaver, Part 4.4

With the thought in her mind, she swept her gaze in search of nearby branches.

It was these branches that many mudlurkers sought refuge from the violence of the mistrain that would sweep them off their feet - which would kill or cripple them in most cases as their fragile bodies fell.

Soon her eye fell onto a fallen branch that was bent in arc like a bow.

A faint smile formed on her lips as she swept her sleev in the direction of the fallen branch, causing a wall of mud to rise around it except for an opening on one end facing the inner arc of where a bowstring would be strung if one were to imagine the branch as a bow.

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