The Old Man and the Manx Im going to the ruined temple to find my daughter, Manx, said the old man.The Old Man and the Manx6 years ago in Fantasy More Like This
It had been a chance meeting between the two. The Manx had loped over a rocky outcropping on the veldt just as the weathered old man had sat down in its shade, preparing to camp for the rapidly descending night. They had stood face to face for many long moments before the old man spoke, and now the two regarded each other with a strange mix of curiosity and suspicion.
The Manx was about the size and shape of a large, tailless dog, with patchy, straw-coloured fur that was speckled around his face and feet with the frosty white of age. His legs were long and ungainly, and their joints were knobby from years of malnourishment. At one time, the Manx had obviously had beautiful tattoos of dancing flames branded into the flesh on his sides and shoulders. Now, however, they simply hung like sad ribbons on his gau