Outside tribe had gone quiet for the night, but in the stone house, the air was anything but calm.
Kaya leaned forward over the little wooden table, eyes bright. "What is the 'full' story?" she asked, every word soaked in curiosity.
The old man stared at her like she'd given him a headache on purpose.
"You people," he muttered. "Why do you all have the same question? Why are you so obsessed with this story?"
Kaya blinked. "All… of us? How many have come here? Like me, I mean."
He clicked his tongue but answered anyway. "Not a crowd. But you're not the first. One said he came from a place called 'India'. Another from somewhere he called 'Francis'."
Kaya frowned. "France," she corrected automatically. "You mean 'France'."
