“mí àwọn tí ó ti sùn—” I chant again, giving three more animations new life. I hope the rush will slow Inan down, but after a few frenzied seconds, he stands alone. Sweat rolls down his forehead, dried soil crunches under his feet.
What is the point of this? She’s only draining herself. She should already know how to do this since she did it at the arena!
