"The mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened against ."
(Written).
(Edited).
***
The guards stationed at all four ends of her cell had been... gossiping as of late, and this sent a tremor of unease raking through the female's body. It didn't help the fact that she was cold, too cold. She huddled closer to one corner of her cell, trying to retain her body warmth in this Harmattan season. The furred, dirtied animal-skinned clothes tied around her chest and waist didn't help to protect her from the cold.
The dry season of harmattan made her muddy walls of the cell cold to the touch, and the air harsh to breathe in. Fierce wind blew from the entrance of the cell, making the female's teeth clatter, and her skin ford tiny bumps due to the chill. There was no mattress for her to lay on, no lapper for her to cover herself with, and the female cursed — at the gods know what — when she shivered again, and she squatted down with her head in between her thighs.
~|~
Dust rose wildly as the harsh wind blew. Everyone scurried around, so carrying lapper which was wrapped around their body, stopping just at their nose because of the wind, while others stayed indoors, not wanting to face the brute force of this seasonal harmattan.
The trees were dried up and its branches — withered — were swaying to the dance of the wind. Patches of dried grass were scattered all over the Kingdom, as the land was sowhat barren.
Only a few trees and plants would be able to survive the cold season, and sotis with enough water, the plant would grow regardless if it wasn't suitable for the weather. The downside of this is that the yield would not be as plentiful as in the rainy season. The Harmattan that year was surprisingly harsh, wild, and fierce as if it ca as a punishnt to atone for the misdoings of sothing... or soone.
This weather had shocked everyone to the core. From being sunny, to clouds covering the sky as the wind blew. Small tornadoes ford out from the wind, carrying dust, sand, and nylons around. Market sellers had been forced to close their shop because of the unexpected climate change, while so people, those hard-core marketers stayed behind, maybe wanting to make more profit as others had closed down their businesses for that day. Their reason was justified, though those who closed their stalls early had enough ti to prepare themselves for what was going to happen that day. Others who didn't leave the market area would, when the ti arrives, have to rush to close up.
Sotis, when sothing like this is about to happen, so of them would leave their stalls open with their goods still in them.
But it wasn't unprotected alright. They would take their charms, which they had gotten from the dibias or other sources to their respective stalls and place them there.
Why do so, you say? Anyone who tries to steal from that store in which the charm had been planted would, either have a critical sickness (one that couldn't be reversed unless you confess or that person dies a painful death), or the thief wouldn't be able to move from his/her position when stealing the item until the owner of that shop arrives.
The people — n, won, and their children — of various tribes huddled in their different houses, wanting to preserve their warmth against the vengeful dry season.
•|~*~|•
Sowhere in the middle of the Onwuigwe forest, an old man raised his head, looked at the dark sky, and then he frowned. Looking at the gloomy, clouded atmosphere, he probably saw it as a bad sign, as it was. He stayed deathly still on his red lappa, which spread on the ground, and his milky white eyes, that was devoid of pupils, widened as though soone (or sothing) had told him a piece of information. The man suddenly looked at one of the molded idols on a small podium — clearly a shrine — then he hurriedly took out cowries from the gods knew where.
The fairly old male shook the cowries in his palm, and while he was still shaking it, he brought it close to his lips as he muttered so incoherent words to the cowries. After he was done whispering, he quickly stood up from the red-colored lapper and kneeled before a particular idol, before he brought out a board which was covered in furred clothing at all edges.
The board he had brought out had various diagonal black and white boxes on its surface, and as he lay down the old board he then threw the cowries on it, looking at the positions it had landed on the board. The man frowned when he saw the cowries' positions on the old board, and clearly, he was not satisfied with what he had looked at, when he took back the cowries — shaking them again whilst muttering so words to the beads — then throwing it onto the board once again.
Uncharacteristically, the white beads landed in the sa position as before, and when he saw it again he frowned, the lines on his forehead visibly deepening further to show his displeasure.
The aged male whispered words of thanks to the idol when he stopped what he was doing.
The male gazed in a particular distance which was towards the female's clan, as if he heard sothing before he shook his head while murmuring to himself. The sudden change of climate, along with what he had seen, was not a good sign. The man then went up to the small erected podium and bowed his head on it. He stayed in that position for a long ti, before he looked towards the direction of the the female's clan, sighing as he said a sentence. The word was barely heard, as though it drifted along with the wind.
‘The gods be with you...’
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