their nest. As if to balance out the chaos in the sky, the fields grew all
crystalline and hard, like they say it is near Automata. We managed to get
some food from the dead people, but I don't trust them. They stare at you
with their glowing eyes, and don't seem to care about anything but going
back to their fields and endless harvests. They're scary.
After the suns were finally chased off by night, the crystal grass still
glowed with motes of light. We menfolk went out to look, and saw the glowing
things were small golden children. We don't know which sun it was that was
bleeding babies, but there didn't seem to be much else to do but take the
little things in, even if the women are busy enough with our own kids. They
seem so helpless.
The dead people tried to take them from us, but we drove them away.
Fortunately, they weren't very strong souls, but they might have friends.