There were bodies, acres and acres of them. Not the sodden remains of some recent tragedy nor to pick the bones of some bygone conflict. These were clumsily husks of humans, dried stiff as if death rung them dry like a wilted flower. Tainting the wind with the smell of leather with sour milk and shit. Their faces drawn into a grimace, their white teeth shining from their darkened skin as if sneering and laughing at the living for being the but of some cruel joke