Linda Crawley was on her way to see Dot about a Saturday event. At forty-two Linda was a little younger than her friend. A tangled mass of short brown hair fell over her face. She was shorter and stouter, but was still attractive as a result of her fitness programme. Unlike Dorothy, she was more sexually aware, however. She could be cheeky on occasions, even when it was a little inappropriate. Motoring along the main road towards the town centre she found herself watching a cyclist ahead. It was a foul day, with driving wind and rain, but the cyclist was bowling along at high speed. As she approached from behind she was able to observe him at close quarter. “Nice body,” she thought as she followed along. She slowed slightly so as not to overtake him. “Lovely little bum, and those pumping legs...” He must have been piling along at nearly thirty, but he made it made it look effortless, his mop of floppy light brown hair streaked back by the rush of air. His position in front of her. ”“Are you ready to wield nature itself as a shield?”She nodded, the Shaman smiling.Kadal stood in the center of the room as the Shaman walked around her, dipping her fingers into different clay pots, and painting their contents onto her scales. They were viscous pastes made from sacred herbs and plants that were found in the Coral Sea, staining her hide with shades of blue, red, and white. The tribe used body paints for ceremonial purposes, and as decoration, but these were different. As the Shaman applied them, she could feel their power starting to flow through her, as though the substances were seeping through her skin. Her heartbeat quickened, her pupils dilating, the coral walls of the chamber seeming to shift and move in the light of the fire.“Do not fight it,” the Shaman whispered, “this is but the beginning of your spiritual journey.”She dipped her hand into another clay vessel, tossing some kind of powder into the fire. The flames erupted suddenly, rising up to lick at the.
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