I sometimes picture mastodon as those Haven cities in zombie films.

"I heard it's safe! They got food, clean water, and the brands ain't got up there yet!"

He sits on a bench, in octodon.social. Octodon is a mid-sized town in the confederation.

“Yea, I was there,” he starts, looking at nothing in particular.

“I was there when the brands came to Birdsite” He fidgets a little on the bench, obviously uncomfortable.

“They came, and the people started to turn. Turn into _them_.” He almost spits the word.

“Said they had to curate their personal brands.” His eyes have a deep sadness to them as he looks at the clear sky.

A tiny dust tornado whips up and spins along the ground, tossing dried leaves. The soil here is dry and empty of nutrients from over-farming in the desperate times before. At some point it was declared useless for crops and the town sprouted up. Looking at the dead earth below makes you wonder how long the town, and the people, can survive.