Rourke listened to the conversation, his wolf ears picking up the subtle shift in tone between speech. "Ever'one's got a past, not ever'ones got a future." Rummaging in a pocket he pulled a small pouch of tobacco, rolling up a ball he began to chew.
The day drew on and the sun nested itself high in the sky, the late autumn heat warming the backs of the pack. As the brush and tree's began to disperse and turn into scrub land, the group continued on. Rourke ever vigilant, eye's darting between horizon. As the afternoon drew on, Rourke came to an embankment and upon climbing to the top, the remains on the I35 were visible. Weeds and scrubs had broken through the asphalt and cracks ran down the road like spiderwebs. The occasional car, broken and rusted, the skeletal remains littering the road.
The day drew on and the sun nested itself high in the sky, the late autumn heat warming the backs of the pack. As the brush and tree's began to disperse and turn into scrub land, the group continued on. Rourke ever vigilant, eye's darting between horizon. As the afternoon drew on, Rourke came to an embankment and upon climbing to the top, the remains on the I35 were visible. Weeds and scrubs had broken through the asphalt and cracks ran down the road like spiderwebs. The occasional car, broken and rusted, the skeletal remains littering the road.