Wenren Dage opened his eyes amid a violent jolt, and saw the yellowed linen tent roof, and a strange smell mixed with livestock manure and rotting vegetation lingered on the tip of his nose. He sat up suddenly, feeling a tearing pain in the back of his head. When he reached out and touched it, the sticky warm touch made his heart tighten - it was blood.
"Hiss..." He took a breath and looked around. This is a simple adobe house with pitted walls and a roof made of thatch and mud. There are a few bundles of hay piled in the corner. There is a black iron pot in the center of the room and several pottery bowls scattered around it.
