FloggingMoIIy

Sywyn couldn't sleep. The smell of burnt clothing still hung fresh in the night air, and it kept him awake with memories of how they had landed themselves in jail. It was a warm summer night-and a humid one at that. Sticky beads of sweat were visible against his skin as he whittled uninterestedly at a piece of wood he had found on the floor, a dull glint of jaded fatigue within his eyes. Pale moonlight came in from a small barred window above their heads, but was weak and dilute compared to the lit torch just outside their cell. The flame crackled loudly as it flickered, its sound soft beneath the chirping of crickets outside their window. He