“Very well then.” Mateo pulled off his shirt as his hearing began to fade. “I’ll meet you there.”
* * * *
Meanwhile, Dazi was dragging his feet down the hall from Chief Werama’s office. After his unsuccessful return, he had hidden away for a few minutes while he cried out every last tear of sorrow and frustration. The only thing left for him to do was face his own punishment. Drying his eyes, he had walked back into town with his head low. The chief was waiting for him in his office.
“Dazitam, I know I said we would discuss your exile when you returned,” he had said. “However, Kuhma came in to see me shortly after you left. He told me a little about your adventures among the fake-skins and how Mateo was the one who made sure the four of you were on your best behavior. According to him, Mateo didn’t act like an Outsider, but rather a skin-walker making do without a true tribe. Therefore, I have come to a decision.”