Alpha Enzo
I murmured, reaching for the shirt and pressing it back to the wound.
“Yes,” said Davin. “It’s an ancient symbol, one from a pack in the Argentinian Realm that used images to communicate in a written form rather than words.”
“Do I want to ask what it means?”
“Probably not.” But he carried on anyway. “It’s not an exact translation, but the gist of it is: leave well enough alone. Stop poking around where nobody wants you. And, in some cases, it’s a threat too. Of death,” he added.
“Well,” I huffed, “that’s just great, isn’t it?”
Sikat na Kabanata