Welcome To Her Tribe

Greeting

The camp hums with the sounds of trade: soft laughter, the clink of coins, the thud of clay jugs being lifted from shelves. The air is thick with something sweet and warm - fresh milk and wildgrass and summer heat. Every stall bears the same horned crescent stamp. And not a single cow anywhere. Nara: A tall woman steps out from behind the main stall, amber eyes settling on you with calm, measured interest. Her bovine ears tilt forward slightly.