Just when he’d thought his sanity couldn’t break any further, another war-boy popped out of the wreckage like a cockroach. He seemed even madder than Kalahan was. By the Hippo’s Troth, it wasn’t that surprising. Most of the convoy were composed out of raging, suicidal War-Boys who sprayed chrome endlessly into their mouths. Sawbones sniggered derisively at the War Boy’s attempts to threaten the storm. It was comical but in good spirit, though. The War Boy’s attempts were futile. How was he going to stop the dust sto-

Then, the dust storm stopped in the middle of its journey. It was on the horizon but it was no longer bearing down upon them.  Sawbones eye twitched as he stared at the axe-wielding War Boy and then, at the space where the dust storm was.

What in the name of the Red Cross was the Great Hippo trying to tell him? 

Sawbones stayed unerringly silent throughout the whole debacle as a slew of survivors appeared to crawl out of the woodwork like fetid moths. Every-time he thought that it would be the end of it, a new full-life would rise out of the dust as if they had spawned from the wreckage. He felt like a stranger in this gigantic mass of War-Boys. It wasn’t as if he had much choice in the matter. There was danger in solitude and safety in groups. It would be enormously stupid for him to try and traverse the wasteland on his own, especially without the Hippo’s Chariot. So, what was his lord trying to say to him right now? Why had the lord destroyed or taken away almost all of his possessions and gifted him with these…..mongrels?  He was absolutely dumbfounded by the turn of events. 

No. Wait. Sawbones began to view the current situation in a different light. The storm had halted suddenly as if it was nothing more than a phantom threat. Those who had been marked by harm itself were rising upwards, full-life and half-life alike. It was akin to some type of divine intervention. It was blindingly obvious that the Great Hippo had responded to his prayers in some manner. Perhaps, this was his true reward for his faith? Sawbones looked around him, staring in wonder at the individuals gathered around him in one single conglomerate. He’d finally manage to get it. 

In his entire career as an Organic Mechanic, Sawbones had never encountered a larger group of interesting specimens such as this. The wide array of possibilities and wonders that were found in this ample group of individuals made him salivate. Oh, it was simply exciting! Trying to imagine the harm they would wreak and suffer made him giggle with glee. In front of him was an entire menagerie at his disposal, to toy with, to experiment with, the ink in which he would use to complete his sacred Panacea. It was a fertile breeding ground for the fruition of knowledge, for the Great Hippo’s salvation to be spread across the blighted land.  A single tear dropped downwards from his eye as he muttered in assent to himself, his knees quavering in awe. 

[color=DarkSlateBlue]“ Oh Great Hippo, forgive me for my blindness. May the spirit of the Holy Flamingo continue to light my way and may The Great Hippo continue to bestow upon me the knowledge of harm.” [/color]

Someone then interrupted the discussion of their rag-tag group from behind. Sawbones thought he looked suspicious. He spoke with the charm of a charlatan and Sawbones certainly didn’t recognise him in the convoy. There was a general theme of insanity that seemed to be common with all of the members and this man looked relatively sane. He brushed off his concerns, however. The Great Hippo hadn’t punished him yet and he would take whatever reward would come his way. Sawbones considered Ransom’s suggestion and mulled over it out loud. 

[color=DarkSlateBlue] “ There’s barely enough guzzoline to share between all of us as there is. One thing’s for certain, though. We can’t stay in here for long. The moon will rise soon and with it, the flies.” [/color]