Black-feathered warblers flew along the shore, their golden shoulder plumes flashing with radiance. These tiny songbirds were so swift and beautiful, and so fond of bustle. They blinked their little eyes, landed on the nearby tidal flats, and stared curiously at the Longships they had never seen before.
Before long, the Longships moored by the sea. Familiar two-legged beasts leapt onto the shore, waved especially long claws, and let out strange, rhythmic cries.
"Main God bless us! We've made land again!"
At the sight, the timid warblers all tucked in the bright feathers on their necks. Then they hurriedly turned, chirping warnings to one another, and their wings carried them swiftly into the jungle. In moments, they vanished from sight.
"Ah! Praise the Main God! Those are the warblers of home, an auspicious sign of smooth going! I never thought I'd see them here!"
Watching the golden glow of feathers as the warblers flew away, Mokai, the Putun warrior, froze for a moment, and a long-lost smile blossomed across his face.
After a long voyage, the hundred-plus Putun warriors who had boarded the ships had already lost forty or fifty men to battle and disease. As the leader of the Putun warriors, Mokai's heart was heavy. Though he had always been known for endurance and was long accustomed to death, he still felt an unbearable weariness toward this seemingly endless seafaring exploration.
The Purepecha warriors and sailors on the same ship, as well as the warriors of the Silver Crow Tribe, had been sailing for even longer, almost a year. They, too, felt deep exhaustion from this long seafaring exploration. Even though faith in the Main God inspired everyone, the priests aboard often comforted them, the villages along the way supplied ample food and water, and certain additional comforts were