From the writing of Nalla Mann--Bartender of the Bloody Nall Tavern
He drove the little boat of blood into and through the night . Still at the throttle as the sunlight of the next day came up. The pool of blood around his ankles had began to congeal like cement around his shoes. Determined and focused he pressed on. Sweat dripped into his eyes as the noon day sun hit its zenith. He continued onward never taking his eyes off the river ahead. The blood dried and caked around him as sunset approached. He had no idea whether he was making up ground at all—but he continued to push the little motor boat as fast as it would go.
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