"We're leaving. Now."

The first sound they heard rolling in on the wind was that of the dogs, powerfully throwing their messages of excitement and warning to each other in a network of barks spanning the whole town. This was nothing too unusual. There was the faint suggestion of voices also, cheering maybe, the ends of loudly spoken sentences, barely audible after their sizable journey, just managing to slip through the kitchen window.

Perhaps there was a parade on.

The first loud crash, reminiscent of distant building work (a crane dropping a heavy load maybe) raised alarm bells. The second, louder and followed by a low, stomach-shuddering rumble, demanded one to step outside and look.

Upon seeing the enormous eerie figure looming over the town and the hazy suggestion of more, appearing from beyond the mountains, the cheers were translated into screams. No more was particularly thought or said.

"We're leaving. Now."



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Luke Pearson - Illustration and Comics: "We're leaving. Now."

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"We're leaving. Now."