The quiet of the elders' tent did not return once its visitors had fled, though none of them spoke. Shuffling of bare feet through sand, cloth against cloth, the tinkling of trinkets dropped into pouches, and the weary, heavy breaths of the old all filled the dark space. It was important that they be prepared to leave soon, and to leave no trace of their presence behind.
K'takka moved through the shadows, snuffing the dull embers of incense, though their smokey smell lingered in the closed tent. K'deiki's shriveled hands brushed across sigils drawn previously in the sand, wiping them clean. Bone bowls clattered as K'jhanhi emptied their contents, and fetishes clinked musically as he stored them away, fingers working familiar knots into old rope and hide. Together they worked with a quiet urgency, a patient readiness. The Amalj'aa were a threat, but they were a familiar threat, and the elders' response was one of habit, not lazy but practiced.
In short order, they would begin to transfer the contents of the tent to just outside. It would signal to the rest of the tribe who had not yet begun preparations of what was to come for the family: they would eat, bolstering their bodies, and then they would disappear.
K'takka moved through the shadows, snuffing the dull embers of incense, though their smokey smell lingered in the closed tent. K'deiki's shriveled hands brushed across sigils drawn previously in the sand, wiping them clean. Bone bowls clattered as K'jhanhi emptied their contents, and fetishes clinked musically as he stored them away, fingers working familiar knots into old rope and hide. Together they worked with a quiet urgency, a patient readiness. The Amalj'aa were a threat, but they were a familiar threat, and the elders' response was one of habit, not lazy but practiced.
In short order, they would begin to transfer the contents of the tent to just outside. It would signal to the rest of the tribe who had not yet begun preparations of what was to come for the family: they would eat, bolstering their bodies, and then they would disappear.
![[Image: AntiThalSig.png]](https://dl.dropboxusercontent.com/u/179079766/AntiThalSig.png)
"Song dogs barking at the break of dawn, lightning pushes the edges of a thunderstorm; and these streets, quiet as a sleeping army, send their battered dreams to heaven."
Hipparion Tribe (Sagolii)Â - Â Antimony Jhanhi's Wiki
