There is great lightening without rain. “A bad omen,” says the crone.
A deer runs through the camp and entangles his antlers.
“A good omen.” pronounces the man who slit the beast’s throat.
He hasn’t had such a dream since his fall. What use have the paralyzed for dreams?
Stramboli lets the balance pole drop. It falls away. He follows.
“Death,” he wonders, “is it a good omen or bad?”