Despite Jorick's desire for oblivion, he was roused the next evening by the soft chirp of a lone cricket. He'd half expected the remaining neighbors to storm the house as he slept, burn it to the ground, leaving him as scattered ashes.
Like Velnya.
He rolled over and stared at the dirty floor. After the memories he'd seen, he couldn't bring himself to sleep in the bedroom. Not now, not ever. No square inch of this house, this land, this territory, would ever be habitable to him again. It was cursed land, and it all deserved to burn.
Like Velnya.
Nebraska wasn't the only thing he wanted to destroy. The humans had done this, and they'd paid, but they weren't the only ones to blame. The guilt sucked at his feet like quicksand. He should have been there would have been but for a few hours
