The setting sun was hanging near the horizon. As the twilight shone upon the Guna River, it created a streak of deep-red glittering lights across the surface of the water. It looked like a river of blood that was constantly flowing.
The tents that used to scatter around the Grassland up to a hundred miles were either disassembled, destroyed, or stolen. It had already become a deserted place.
The dung of cow, goat, and horse, was hidden within the weeds, the ominous twittering of birds was echoing around, the corpses were lying down everywhere, and some damaged items in the tents were left behind by their owners. Covered in twilight, this place gave a feeling of bleak emptiness.
