"Because home is home, Della," He said under closed eyelids, "No matter where you've been and where you're going, home is home, and there'll never be anything like it..."
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Sun-baked adobe huts dwarfed by limestone towers that shimmered in the heat were visible just on their horizon. While the oasis they encircled couldn't be seen, the palm trees and lush undergrowth it provided could easily be seen as a patch of vibrant green on the canvas of beiges, whites, and blues.
It was a large place, to say the least. A wall, and it could have been a fortress, if not a large village. Militarised, and it would have been a formidable stronghold... But for now it was simply an estate, or so it appeared. Bolion dismissed his thoughts, however entertaining they could be. Now was the time to plan their entrance.
"What's the plan?"