Earlier that night when the blood moon had risen upon the land's of Kovya, Kowali stood before the great forefathers of their nations who were guided by the spirits of their ancestors.
They sat on their crafted thrones high above the sand near Sombwageits cliffside, their cold and judgemental gazes cast upon the man who went against his country for some foreign women.
He knew exactly what they'd spit from their bone pierced mouths, lies they claimed were from the spirit realm but were truly harvested from the prejudiceness that arose from his father's teachings.
The forefathers didn't want this to end in peace. They wanted blood and segregation between an already torn apart family. To everyone else their family was filled with sin—one brother loving a man and the other baring his teeth and claws for a white woman.
