To Hunt What We Are

To Hunt What We Are -- There are men who die. And men who are allowed to live. Rusk is the latter. After five hundred years, surviving doesn't equal living. The name they give him-Cairnwarden-insinuates better. Duty. Purpose. Respect. Honesty woven through the silk of polite lies. Because Cairnwardens are not respected. They are not remembered. They exist in the way you accept mold growing in your home: because it must, though you want it to stay hidden and spare you its filthy work. Standi...