R
Literature
Resonance PT2 The next day was dripping and slightly overcast. Farah always appreciated when the sun was in absentia, even if temporarily. That morning, all four of the potential robbers faced the bank from a farm cart on the opposite side of the street, watching customers and employees line up for it to open. Farah glared at Harald. “You didn’t say a word about painted dogs!” The tribal canines contrasted with the city beasts lining up for the bank: Four of the large-eared canines stood guard outside the bank steps, each with a large oval shield in one paw and a long bladed spear in the other, warclubs stuffed in their belts. The ‘painted dogs’ lived up to their name: their fur patterns seemed as if they had been painted on with a swift and thick brush by some god above. Zanna growled. “They are good with spears...” her voice lowered. “I have fought them before.” The bear rubbed at an unseen scar on her side. Marshas squinted his eyes. “I see no tribal markings on them. They must be
