A few minutes before everyone in the tiger tribe knew one of theirs was dead, the elder man entered Soren's cave.
He saw the leopard tribe chief seated comfortably on his stone chair, drinking wine. It was a fine wine that one of the other tribes had gifted the leopard tribe during the last festival held more than a week ago.
Soren watched the man walk in and he smirked. The expression was cold and calculating.
"Any news?" Soren asked casually, like he was asking about the weather instead of the fate of his plan.
The man dropped to his knees immediately, unable to stand under the weight of his failure.
"Forgive me, chief," the man said desperately. "I tried my best to convince him. I used every argument I could think of. I appealed to his pride. I appealed to his sense of duty to the tribe. But he refused. He just refused to listen to me."
Soren set down his wine glass slowly.
"So, you failed?" Soren asked, his voice still calm and measured.
