K'ile lead K'mih away from the other huntresses, out to the perimeter of the gathering. Â He whispered, "Sorry, but you're part of the ritual from now on. It's important." He produced two narrow shafts of wood, each about half the length of a spear. He placed on across K'mih's palm and wrapped her fingers around it, his hand warm and calloused on her thin fingers. K'ile's gaze was neutral, but his twitching ears, low against his hair, revealed a certain tenseness of emotion. "Give the staff a flick. Start the movement in your chest and let it roll down your should into your hand lake a shaken rope. Imagine the bead as flint sparking the tinder in your hand. The fire will flow to either end of the stick." K'ile, holding the other stick, imitated the gesture he had just described. He wore no beads, however, so the short staff he held did not light.
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