Shabby, torn fabric, stained by weeks of travel and bleached from the harsh sun. Long, thin sticks held the fabric up so it formed a triangle with the earth. The sticks were buried deep within the shifting orange sand to hold off the blistering wind.
Tent, Desert
bridge
a ghost
I am a ghost. I am the spirit of a deceased person in the kingdom. I have remained behind on the earth after my death because I have some unfinished business I need taken care of.
hello can bridges talk YES! Especially enchanted ones that are small enough to fit in tents! nice I am looking for the lady Mary have you seen her lately No. One problem with being a bridge, is that I don't have any eyes. I can shuffle around, but I just kinda randomly bump into things. bummer I was hoping you seen her I must let her know of my undying love before I pass on to the other side Speaking of, how'd you die? I was attacked by a guard when I tried to stop her marriage to this foul man name  john Sounds about right. I've never known a John that was worth a penny. do me a favor if he should ever cross dunk in the river for me will yea You got it, friend. What's he look like? There are lots of Johns running around this place. Short and stubby with a bald spot  quite a ugly man Gross! I hope I never have his nasty feet shambling across my stones!