She drew another and another; three in all. Each had a different mask and clothing. They danced around the fire she drew. I could feel their spirits. They were warriors who protected the village. They were also priests who blessed it and kept away bad omens. I blinked, feeling dizzied by the swirling colors and the non-corporeal chaneling. When I opened my eyes, I was among them, I sat down with them and smoked from a pipe we shared. There was no conversation, just the passing of peace. Afterwards they wrote the number 5/5 in the dirt near the fire. I had no idea what it meant or represented.
The panther roared again, waking me from my communion with the elderly lady. The panther was still on top of me and staring into my eyes. She had calmed, and stepped off me. She lay down beside me, p
