The witch woman had medicinal plants, aromatically pungent, and multicolored vines intertwined within her braided hair. She had sunken features, dark plum hued skin matted with mud. She stared through fiercely judgmental eyes, downward in direction, gazing at a man who was standing just below her doorstep in the shade of the jungle.
“Who's there?” she commanded.
The man, shirtless, his tan torso drenched in blood that looked freshly shed was carrying a wounded man on his...