With the air more often than not heavy and oppressive, and with lightning cracking constantly along the northern horizon, Adama knew the rainy season was fast approaching, and that it would arrive swiftly and with great force.
He had been about to harvest some macan leaves, ready to take back to his burrow, when he decided to relieve himself against the trunk of the tree. He’d barely started when he heard a man’s voice behind him.
“Purging?”
Adama turned, mid-stream, and saw a man, naked but for a large animal skin hanging over his shoulder. He was tall and solid, his chest thick with dark hair. He clutched a long spear in his left hand and held the hide in place with his right.
“Not yet,” Adama replied.
The man acknowledged his response with a nod.
“You’re the second traveller I’ve
