k1ngc0br1

 “Alright you lot! Stand to and get some rest!” Called the sergeant watching over the column of marching peasants; despite being garbed in farmers clothes they seemed to have taken the march better than the actual soldiers and took their seats gracefully in small parties, moving as close as they could to one another and rubbing against each others’ bodies wherever they could. Occasionally they exchanged gentle bites, like puppies and rumbled at each other soothingly. “Tch, damned wolves,” the sergeant muttered, hefting his pike and shaking his head. “They’re creepier than the sand blasted Gerudos.