Neverwinter Forest You know me I no dey pretend

MY BOY WANNA TELL STORIES

Date: 05/08[b] 
[b]Time of Day: 9:13 pm
Cloud Cover: Partial clouds
Precipitation: Patchy rain 
Temperature: 51 °F 
Wind Speed / Direction: 6 mph / Northerly 
Viewing Distance: 5 mi

As much as he enjoyed adventure and the idea of bringing home a legacy worthy of those who came before him, he could not deny the gnawing that had entered his chest. It was small at first, a slight twinge in the chest that he had written off as strain, then it grew and grew and lingered until he woke up with it nestled in his body.

If he were home, he knew who he could go to for help and advice. His bibi and babu at first, then a mganga if it persisted. If he had experienced it before he would have had a name for it — kutamani nyumbani — but alone, far away from any answers or solutions, he dwelled in it. What did this mean? Were the spirits here angry with him? He wished he knew more of such things, but he was Mwashinga, battleborn and destined to be a warrior for life.

He wandered about, enjoying the evening air. There was rain in the wind, but it didn't smell strong. Perhaps it would pass. He sniffed a flower. He didn't recognize the scent. His chest hurt more.