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A shaman of few.
#1
What comes after Sleep?
Maybe the insects that crawl beneath your bed, so disgusted by such, but relying on them, for sustenance, for company..
What comes after Insects?
Maybe...usefullness? They are so small yet they die, they are always usefull, alive or not, they are used for the trees to grow, for the bodies to decay, for the Shaman to mend.
What comes before Sleep?
Maybe hunger? The sounds of insects crawling on the stone of a labyrinth
drops of dim water, a drop after drop, striking the concrete in a slow manner, the sound echoing in the small room, the sounds of barely breathing brothers and sisters, insects crawling very close yet too far to be catched, waiting to feast on fresh uncontrolled flesh, too disorgonized to protect it self...
This Serpent has been wronged too many times, yet? Does he lash out on others? Blame others?
He doesn´t have the right to, he doesn´t have the power to, he doesn´t have anything for that matter.
From his love, hurt by one of the serpents, very well a leader, to his own self, disfigured.

Sleeping for 6 years, waking up, most of the serpents are gone, there are some undead here and there, was this really the home he thought of?

Maybe a pursue of his goals, to become a master of poisons, a family? An uncle?
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