By the time Michael returned to the tribe, the sun had almost fallen into the horizon. He leaped from the ground to comfortably land on the wooden platform above the ground.
"My lord," Kirat and the other wood elves bowed toward Michael. After nodding at them, Michael strolled to his throne and saw Vedora lying on it belly up. The throne was littered with bits and pieces of fruits and bare bones of fish. Ayag snored as a trail of drool trickled down her mouth. Michael lifted them up from the throne and raised his hand as a gust of wind blew past the throne. The wind blast cleaned his throne.
Michael plunged onto the throne and took out the coin he picked from the panther. He fiddled with the coin until Ayag, Sarba, and Cain slowly opened their eyes. Sarba rubbed the sleep off of his eyes. When their visions cleared, they saw the dark lines on Michael's forehead. It was obvious he had met some trouble while they were feasting and living like a god.
