The Wisewoman of the Purple Stone Tribe stood before him, her bent body filled with age and giving off an air of ancientness that seemed to predate the tribe itself. The copper rings in her ears caught the fading light, and the bone ornaments on her staff clicked together as she planted it firmly in his path.
Damian had not had many interactions with this Wisewoman before this day.
Although he recalled multiple times in the past where he felt like he was being watched by her. He had ignored it for the most part, knowing his identity was sensitive, and simply attributed it to the natural suspicion that came with being a stranger.
But the old woman stood in front of him right now, her ancient eyes boring into his with an intensity that belied her frail appearance.
"O Great Tokoloshe."
Her voice was grave.
"Peril is coming to the Chieftain and the Tribe."
...!
Grandmother Essun said such words as Damian blinked and looked at her with a pause.
