Hushed Willows oh no, i’m sorry if i smothered you,

the circling umzingeli stopped and settled beside ingcuka's side. the cause of injury seemed to have been lost with time, a fact that was accredited to an assumed head wound. aphiwe was no healer, but she knew that if one hit their head hard enough, their umoya would rejoin the air, leaving behind but a shell.

this theory beckoned symptathy, patience, from the hunter. you do not remember? she asked. this is okay. she was of olityelweyo, the forgotten. aphiwe knew that an issue of such nature wasn't easily fixed, so she chose to ignore it. what do you know?