"There's a monster closing up pace and might come to hunt our village down."
The tough guy said as soon as he bowed to the Monarch. His heart which had been thumping knew peace and his ears erect.
Twas known to all of them that the Monarch had no mercy of words. He would speak gently for only few who could make meaning of it.
Many had owed it to the fact that he was suffering from some disease no one had an idea of and no cure to.
But some said, twas genetic and that he contracted it from his grandparents.
The Monarch was sitting on an elevated chair made from boabab and there were two men standing by him, fanning him.
The tough guy and Lude were standing before him, while on their right and left were chiefs who championed the course of the Monarch.