[Aylwen Dreamsong]

Rijal had turned away from the gruesome parts of the execution, burying his tiny face in the tuft of grass that hid him from the four elders that were killing Fouad. Jasara had asked Rijal to return to the outskirts of the Painted Sand tribe's camp, and did not say what to look for. However, Rijal immediately knew what she had meant once he saw Fouad and the four elders. Rijal knew that Jasara had communicated with Fouad once or twice, for Fouad was the leader of the young in the Painted Sand tribe. The way Jasara spoke of Fouad made Rijal think that she wanted the Painted Sand young to join their new tribe.

By the time the fourth blade had struck Fouad, Rijal could take it no longer. The look that was frozen on the dead boy's face haunted Rijal, for it seemed eerily similar to the expression that so often painted Jasara's face. Rijal turned away one last time, and ran. He sprinted, not thinking twice that the elders must have seen him dart off into the distance.

It did not take long for Rijal to make it to the camp the Baobob young had made. It was less than fifty paces away from the stream, which was made their new camp an excellent one. It also did not take long for Rijal to find Jasara, for the girl was almost always off by herself. This time she was alone by the stream.

"Jasara! Jasara! They killed him!" Rijal shouted when he was within earshot of Jasara. Then he continued up to the young woman, for she had not turned at his call.

Fouad is gone. whispered the familiar voice menacingly. He was killed by the elders. The young of the Painted Sand tribe are leaderless and defenseless against the disgusting elders.

Jasara grinned. She had known, thanks to the voice that haunted her, that it was only a matter of time before Fouad's downfall. There was power to be taken, and it would be taken by Jasara.

"There is no need, Rijal. I know. Thank you." she said shortly, causing Rijal to stop in his tracks and turn away.

Jasara stalked back towards her tribe's camp, letting the grass crunch beneath her feet. She walked up to Nasir, who was with Najah going over how many weapons they had and if it was enough for the new tribe. Nasir turned to face Jasara before she could get his attention, and he frowned.

"We only have enough to supply half the tribe," he said simply. "We have too many bows and not enough children who can wield a bow properly. We don't have enough swords and too many children who can only use those."

"First off, that is what we have you and Najah for. You are here to teach them how to use your weapons. Najah is excellent with a bow, and thus she will teach those who prefer swords to instead prefer bows. Second, I have something far more important to tell you. Fouad is dead, and there are young that are leaderless in the Painted Sand camp," said Jasara with a low, oily voice.

"I see. Well, we'll send Rijal to inform their second-in-command that we will come for them tonight. Then you and I can sneak them out while the elders are sleeping," suggested Nasir with little thought, and Jasara nodded approval.

Good. Our forces strengthen.