Helping the Amares rid themselves of the Wendigos, Eden left the village and headed toward the rampart.
A month after Eden's departure, Itotia stood before the grave of her late father. There was a small mound of earth where his body, or rather what remained of it, was buried.
After a few minutes, she finally decided to return to her tent. The village seemed frozen in a heavy atmosphere. The setting sun bathed the dried mud huts in an orange glow, casting long shadows on the dusty ground. A few villagers were still going about their tasks, their faces marked by fatigue.
Itotia carefully observed the scene, aware of the weight of her new responsibilities. Her gaze met that of an elderly woman pounding millet, then that of a young boy who had successfully hunted some game. She greeted them with a nod, trying to appear confident.
"Good evening, Mama Zara," she said to the old woman. "How is your grandson?"
