Wind swirled in a tiny vortex. Irus stood on the loose rocks beside a patch of scraggly, tough foliage. At first, the vortex was only noticeable as it sucked up dust. Then, a few dark feathers were pulled in by its spinning influence. Soon, more and more feathers were drawn into the twirling tower of air. Irus watched with rapt fascination and wondered from where all the feathers had come.
After a minute, there was a spinning, vertical spiral of feathers dancing in the air. Irus whispered a few words, the traditional words that the shaman had taught him to say when weird things started to happen on his Journey. And just like that, the feathers coalesced into a ball. Then the ball stood and was, instead, a woman in an elaborate outfit.
Irus burst into a big smile.
The Tall Tale Year 