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Description

“What is your name?” I asked him. Not that I really cared, but I had to travel with him for some time. Certainly not to the point of making friends, but still.
 
“Call me whatever you want,” he gravelled. His voice made my ears hurt. Hoarse, low, indistinct. Let’s just hope and pray this pony was not of those who liked to talk.
 
“Well, then…” And how was I supposed to call him? Mister Sadie-Maisie? Leather Jacket? Wheezy Voice? But if to think about it, there was one option. “Gas Mask. Are we going or what?”
 
— — —
 
Artwork for a fanfic: Apocalypse After Us

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