She descends into one of the virgin forests on the farm. When her feet touch the ground, she hears the crunch of leaves. Her heart leaps to her throat, at the thought of something hearing her. A darkness falls over the forest like the sun has just been swallowed by a dark nebula. She shivers in the cold, yet she knows that she must continue.
As she moves deeper into the woods, she hears something – a female voice, chanting. In the dark, she can only make out a silhouette of a woman on her knees, rhythmically clapping her hands. The sound of her claps drowns out her chants.
Tari moves closer, but cautiously. She only senses malevolence from the kneeling woman. But she was brought here for a reason. Now only a few feet away, she wonders what the woman is communing with. She moves around her.
The outline of a clay pot emerges into view. It is filled with …..blood, or what looks like blood. The woman falls silent and allows her arms to rest. The blood begins to rise. It clings to the sides of the pot like it doesn’t wish to fill it, like an organism desperate not to leak out of its home.
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