In front of Damian, there was something so beautiful that he was about to thoroughly ravage and defile.
The moment he'd come back and caught up with Uncle Adam, Tribesmen had emerged from their huts and looked at him with reverence before saying ridiculous things like "Tokoloshe, your morning offering is prepared" and "Tokoloshe, the offering awaits you" and other such nonsense that made him want to tell them he was just a hungry young man who wanted to eat, not some spirit requiring tribute.
He hadn't bothered correcting them.
And now he was sitting in the sizable hut where only Warriors were supposed to eat, the space reserved for those whose bodies burned with Mana and required sustenance to match, and spread before him was a feast that made his stomach clench with anticipation.
