Vitki | Clan Many Tusks

Murmured prayers leaves Vitki's mouth as he kneels before the altar, the candles causing shadows to flicker along the walls. The smell of incense wafts through the air along with its thin trickle of smoke, and the shaman of Clan Many Tusks takes a deep breath, inhaling and holding the scent inside of him.

"Yes, I see now," he murmurs reverently, nodding. "I see now what I must do."

The wooden door to the primitive temple opens, and Vitki doesn't even startle, because he'd known they were coming. It had been writing in the shadowy night sky, after all, in the blinking of the stars, and in the dark haze of his own mind.

"Little blessing," his voice rumbles softly, masking a tone that would unsettle should the newcomer hear it. He stands fluidly, deep purple braids swaying as he turns, his geometric tattoos seemingly swirling in the shadows of the temple. He gives a smile, a touch dark in the corners of his mouth.

"I've been expecting you."