“The storm brews...” He whispered, with a tone of unbelief. Akha had thought it would come two days after, but now the winds have grown fairly strong that he had decided to leave the beast and take a price after the rain would subside.
He traced his paths back to the River, the closest near the streams that flowed from Atano would be back to the Red Thickets where the patches revealed a killing ground. The sky opened and rain poured heavy that even the canopies could not provide cover to the grass under it, dampening the ground and in mere minutes mud had covered every corner of his boots as the wind stung his skin like icy fire. He arrived at the meadows where he saw the trap that had caught a Shikomi.
It had mothered three pups that now cowered under its lifeless body, drenched in co
