Heather

Mist rolled in across the plain. Morning lit the red sky with a new dawn. Well met gentlemen, smartly pressed, they gathered to their man. With crisp breath they took their metal. Upon each other they slowly stepped away. The handkerchief fell. Duty... Lord Stanley stood, satisfied. The Duke however.. Bled. Mist rolled in across the plain. Morning had lit the red sky with dawn. A gut shot killing the Duke. His men gavered, whilst Lord Stanley and his slowley slipped away.