Here's a couple:
Crispin wasn’t sure when he had noticed it, but at some point there had been a noticeable change in scenery. The dirty roads gave way to pristine cobbled paths with not a stone out of place. The houses were bigger, and less crammed together. The heavy factory smoke still hung over the city in this nicer part of town, but even that was less noticeable.
They eventually stumbled upon an abandoned farm on the outskirts of the town. The roof was caving in at one end, and the broken windows wouldn’t provide them much protection from the chilly breeze. At the very least it was a step up from building makeshift shelters out of sticks and leaves.
The inside of the building had not fared much better. Cobwebs hung down from the rafters and there was a layer of dust on everything that was at least an inch thick. Rotting hay was strewn all over the ground which filled the room with a musty smell that made Kit crinkled his nose in disgust. At the very least the hay would give them something soft to sleep on, but he would have given anything to be back in his room in the castle.
Blood splattered across the man’s cheek. He released his grip on Kit, and made a sickening choking noise as his last breath escaped him. His lifeless body sank to the ground, leaving him to lay on the rough gravel, surrounded in a pool of his own blood. A single, silver knife stuck out of the very center of his back.
