Storm Watch Butte You are the little fang

Soto's gift would never meet Toula.

Her departure back to Akashingo included a stop in the open desert. A pocket of sand was scratched in the dirt. The drooping pelt was dropped there, and the mink dropped head to its open contents. The aroma was intense! Strong! She reeled back and dropped down cleanly onto her stomach, only to rise again and lean towards not the many spices, but a strange, ground up powder.

Flinching from it a second time, whiney laughter like that of a hyenas anxiously ticked out her throat. Tail, thrashing.