Kenneth Bernoska

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I smelled burning sage as I approached Mwita’s hut. He was sitting quietly on a wide mat meditating, his back to me. I stood in the doorway and looked around. So this was where he lived. Woven items hung on the walls and were piled around his hut. Baskets, mats, platters, and even a halfdone wicker chair.
Who Fears Death (Who Fears Death, #1)
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