Character: Halgar

Halmar sat down, gently touching the hole, remaining from the hooves of the horse - out of a dry ground began to ooze a dark liquid. Lowering her finger, the angel lifted him up to eye level, the viscous fluid slowly flowed from the nail down, like condensed milk.
- Oil? asked Halgar, already knowing the answer to your question.
"Of course," nodded the rider. - We are inseparable - where the oil is, there is Death. Fresh priority, although they tend to change. Before it was gold.