[center][color=DEB887][h2]Yala Jarra-Binalku[/h2][/color]
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Yala remained quiet as the others discussed their options but an unsettling feeling began to curl up in her stomach. This was becoming more involved than she had first anticipated. She was surprised when a soft but clear voice reached them from inside the tent, and the pale figure of Alkina appeared at the entryway. 

She had never actually met Alkina until now. The small, pale dancer's path and hers had never cross before and now she was to come with them. The elder's prized child, the mysterious Nortooga and the Kwenda catcher; this discovery has seemed to bring all the odd ones of their tribe together and Yala wasn't sure how to feel about it. Nevertheless, Yala smiled down at Alkina as they left her tent, even though the girl wouldn’t be able to see it, and offered her arm to use as a guide so she wouldn't trip or stray as they walked. She did have some reservations about bringing her, but she new Alkina was often trapped in her tent by her affliction and felt sympathy for her. She felt some escorted time about the village wouldn't be too out of line, as long as they brought her  back in time for this evening's ceremony. 

As they walked towards the outskirts of the village, Yala's thoughts went back to the brief glimpse she got of the picture which sparked this new turn of events. She had never seen the mountain, never had a cause to travel that far into the Moodjar, but she knew the stories well. It was a place of spirits that humans were not allowed to enter. Most who did never returned and the Ansharin took this to mean the penalty of that transgression was death. When the Witch came back though, beautiful and unchanged despite the long years of her absence, the Ansharin thought it the worst of omens. Kwilana's brother was all that was keeping her within the tribe and not cast out into the desert. 

Every so often, the duty of bringing Kwilana food would fall to Yala and she would have to visit the elderly woman. The encounters are almost always wordless on her part but Kwilana would always thank her. Yala felt rude for never speaking to her but there was something about the woman that made her voice seize in her throat every time she went there. It was more than just her beauty, it was the way the older woman looked at her, like she knew many a great and dangerous secret. Yala didn't doubt that she did. 

Now standing outside Kwilana's tent, Yala felt the same feeling creep into her lower chest. She tried to ignore it as she followed Kwelek inside.