Kana’s words lingered in the back of Andrev’s mind. One day, when the women told him he had hunted enough for the week, he sat on the edge of the wanderer camp, making delicate wooden whistles for the children, and he saw Rastaban helping one of the other men build a tent frame for the upcoming Wanderer feast. Every year the Wanderers danced for the tribes.
Andrev had always been banished from the show.
This year would be his first chance to see it.
And then maybe it was his eyes playing a trick on him, but he saw it.
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