Tomas once more trudged through the bog, carefully winding through the patches of solid ground under the heat of midday. Hearing a cry overhead he glanced up to see Ki’nam, perched atop his ta’xaral, soaring through the sky. Raising an arm in salutation, Tomas stopped, smiling as he watched them fade into the distance.


    May your aim be true, brother.


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    Tomas suddenly flinched as a reverberating response filled his mind, “Ki’nam wishes you good favour in turn.”


    He shook his head, still smiling. He spoke aloud, “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that.” As Ki’nam disappeared, Tomas started walking once more, back towards the road, towards Lukan, towards home.