Veylara's jaw clenched so tightly that a thin bead of blood broke from her scarred lower lip, tracking down her chin.
She slowly, deliberately took a deep breath, forcing the violent spike of her Layer 4 essence back down into her core, letting the suffocating spiritual pressure around her body dissipate into the wind.
She slowly lowered the point of her massive bone-spear, resting the heavy butt of the weapon against the cracked clay of the riverbed.
"The ancestors have witnessed your bow, Chief Vane," Veylara declared, her booming voice carrying a forced, heavy solemnity that echoed cleanly off the majestic walls of the pass. "A beast-tide is a curse that tests the limits of any tribe.
The Veynar do not forget the ancient pact, nor do we turn our backs on those who honor the Sacred Pact when the sky turns black."
A massive, collective sigh of pure relief rippled through the Veynar elders behind her.
