The shadowed tent was thick with incense and herbs as usual, the fragrant stink of alchemy and shamanism. The entry of the young White Mage caused the myriad fetishes that adorned the ceiling to shift with a subtle clattering, like teeth being stirred in a bowl. Shafts of dusty light turned, laying over pillows and blankets, shelves and bowls of half-prepared concoctions spread over the floor.
A wiry form snapped out of the shadows immediately next to K'ailia almost before the girl was finished speaking, knocking against her with all the force of a sinewy skeleton and pushing her further into the tent. A bowl of strange powers fell of K'ailia's head, filling her hair in the air around her head with a thick dust that would sting the eyes and nose. With the flicker of reflective, silver eyes, an ancient voice hissed, "Do not speak unless you are instructed to!"
Pushing off of K'ailia, the elder K'taka -- progenitor of both K'ailia and K'nahli -- snapped open the flap of tent that had only just closed. Her thin limb flew like a biting snake, and her thin fingers latched around K'nahli's arm. As though a creature peering out of the earth, K'takka glared at K'nahli, and the elder's hands shook with age and anger upon great-grandaughter's skin.
"K'nahli Yohko," she hissed. Her one disfigured finger and its black nail shivered grotesquely in the sunlight. "Go, find you father! Bring him at once! The elders would speak to you both. Now."
A wiry form snapped out of the shadows immediately next to K'ailia almost before the girl was finished speaking, knocking against her with all the force of a sinewy skeleton and pushing her further into the tent. A bowl of strange powers fell of K'ailia's head, filling her hair in the air around her head with a thick dust that would sting the eyes and nose. With the flicker of reflective, silver eyes, an ancient voice hissed, "Do not speak unless you are instructed to!"
Pushing off of K'ailia, the elder K'taka -- progenitor of both K'ailia and K'nahli -- snapped open the flap of tent that had only just closed. Her thin limb flew like a biting snake, and her thin fingers latched around K'nahli's arm. As though a creature peering out of the earth, K'takka glared at K'nahli, and the elder's hands shook with age and anger upon great-grandaughter's skin.
"K'nahli Yohko," she hissed. Her one disfigured finger and its black nail shivered grotesquely in the sunlight. "Go, find you father! Bring him at once! The elders would speak to you both. Now."