Another weekend lost on the deadliest street in America and the young cat who walked that red and dusty road. . .
Meanwhile, wherever he rode, severe weather followed. Whether it be a storm rolling over the Capitans or the squall in a young school marm's heart, he disrupted everything. They called him. . .
The place was deadly and dark and it's hard to imagine the horrors of the past as you walk the street today.
"Here, thick black trunks crowded close together while twisted branches wove a dense canopy overhead and misshapen roots wrestled beneath the soil. This was a place of deep silence and brooding shadows, and the Gods who lived here had no names."
—George R.R. Martin