As Enel's words hung in the air, the crowd of armed villagers remained tense, their hands gripping weapons as though ready to fight or flee. Then, one of them broke through the throng, shoving others aside with a series of light pats on their chests as if urging them to stand down.
The figure's gait was uneven, like a chimpanzee's, the result of an injured leg that caused him to drag it slightly as he moved. His attire set him apart from the rest—a long, flowing gown of stitched hides and woven plant fibers that covered him from head to toe.
He raised a hand, his voice calm yet firm as he addressed his people in their guttural tongue. The effect was immediate; the tension in the air seemed to ease, and the other villagers lowered their weapons.
