Chapter 3: The Old Shaman of Shadows
The air was thick with the scent of moss and blooming nightflowers as Savannah followed Korran along the woven pathways suspended high in the ancient trees. Vines, rope, and smooth planks connected vast platforms between trunks wider than houses, where lanterns glowed with a gentle violet hue. The **Panther Tribe's village** swayed and breathed like a living thing, suspended far above the forest floor.
Savannah glanced down once and instantly regretted it.
"This is really unsafe... way too high up!" She muttered under her breath, wobbling.
Korran didn't look back at her. "You're safe, don'tworry so much. These paths have held my weight for seasons."
"Which is incredibly reassuring considering your size," she snapped, arms windmilling slightly before she caught herself.
Korran finally glanced over his shoulder, dark brows raised. "Do you want me to carry you again, little leopard?"
"I don't like being handled, and I'm NOT a little—" She froze, cheeks colouring. That nickname again. He'd called her that more than once now. It was becoming too familiar to her, with a teasing smile she was quickly learning to recognise as dangerous with a peculiar flutter in her chest.
When she didn't reply, Korran's smirk only deepened, but he said nothing and continued leading her through a final hanging archway of twined braided tree branches woven together that had grown closer over decades.
The shaman's hut, like the others it was cared into the hollowed core of one of the huge trees that carried the village. The shamen's was different from the others, even from the outside she could sense with her new nose and ears the subtle differences. Its thatched roof was decorated with hanging bones, beads, and tiny charms that rattled and whispered when the wind stirred even the slightest breeze. Inside, the scent of spice, bark, pine needles blended with, and a low fire which crackled in a pit surrounded in a circle by cushions. Shelves were carved directly into the wood, cluttered with jars, feathers, and things Savannah didn't want to identify.
An old man lounged beside the fire in a swirl of fabrics. His wild grey hair stuck out in tufts, and a bushy beard half-covered his amused smile. Savannah wondered if smugness was a common trait for panther beastmen. A single yellow eye, from the other side of the fire locked on Savannah at that thought. The other eye was clouded white with age.
"Ahhh," the Shaman said, his voice a low purr. "It has been some time since I laid eyes on a snow cat. You ate very far from home to be all the way out here, at our village."
Savannah blinked. "What?" She couldn't help wonder if he knew more than he was letting on. This wasn't a doctor, not by her own standards, at least, but some of the herbs were familiar: mint caught her nose as she walked by... the juniper berries. She hadn't drank much in her home world, but she remembered a female figure in her family. A hazy memory clouded by fog, the lady enjoyed gin and so the juniper berries jogged her memory of her world.
"She's not from around here," Korran explained, arms crossed. "Found her alone. No escort. No family. No mates and even no memories. Can you help her, Sable?"
Before the shamen, Sable, could reply Savannah corrected, stepping forward, "Not, no memories at all," keeping the gaze of the shamen and holding her space, "Just… blurred ones, and old memories, new ones keep slipping away. Like my mums face, it's mostly people and details, its water through my hands. None of this feels real."
The old man stood slowly, raising from the pillow on the floor by the fire, he was surprisingly tall and limber. He moved closer, using a stick to walk that he didn't seem to need, peering at her with that one sharp eye. She tensed under his gaze as he lifted a gnarled hand—then, without warning, flicked her on the forehead.
"Ow!" Savannah jumped back and Korran moved his hand to cover her slightly. Giving Sable a questioning look.
"Hmph," he grunted. "Feels real to me."
"Shaman Sable," Korran said, barely masking a laugh. "We were hoping for something a little more… insightful, with more healing. How can she get her memories back and stop them fading?"
The old panther only chuckled. "Insight comes with touch, young Korran. Sometimes with breath. Sometimes with time. You, girl, are not a ghost, nor glamoured, nor cursed—though your soul hums wrong here."
Savannah frowned, her arms wrapping around herself. "I remember Ear- my home," she quickly corrected herself, it would be best they think she is a lost snow leopard for now. "I remember my lab. Equations. Physics. I had control of my life and was watching the moon through my telescope...but now I'm here?" She paused, fear whispering beneath her words. "What worries me is I am forgetting things, small things but I have been since I woke up. Names. Numbers. I reached for something today—some formula—and it just… wasn't there."
Silence fell. Even the fire seemed to lean in.
Sable and Korran exchanged a look. They had understood some words that Savannah had said, though not all of them.
"Which moon were you looking at?" Asked Korran.
Forgetting, temporarily that she wasn't home on Earth anymore, she answered, "The moon, the only moon."
The concerned look between the old and young leopard beastman grew. This young snow leopard seemed to be talking in tongues and very confused.
"Sometimes," the Shaman said quietly, "when a soul crosses from one sky to another, it must let go to make room. You may be changing, child. Getting older. Growing fangs you didn't know you had. It's time to leave your childhood dream skies in your childhood.."
Savannah swallowed hard. They didn't believe her, or worse... they didn't understand her. We're things so primitive here?
"Or," Sable added cheerfully, "maybe you just hit your head. You should look to make some new mates if your previous ones have died. Korran here is an eligible bachelor! You can make new memories to replace the forgotten."
"Very helpful," she muttered, looking disgruntled. "Do you have medicine to help?
Korran said nothing. As for his expression? Savannah could only imagine, as she refused to grant him a glance at this suggestion.
The Shamen moved to a shelf with curved bark woven holders for the herbs, "Yes, I can give you medicine to help with headaches, you are too pale child and your balance is off, I could hear you struggle to walk even into my home."
Korran chuckled, nudging her with an elbow. "You get used to him." Trying his best to encourage her when she didn't feel even the slightest bit encouraged.
The Shaman turned, robe swishing, revealing a full panther tattoo that prowled across his left forearm. It was surrounded by crumbling stones and three bold stars, each inside a circle—beast badges of strength- Savannah but didn't fully understand the ranking. Only that it must be a beast way to marked power and status.
"And you," the Shaman said, pointing at Korran, "...watch this one closely. She's not like the other females of our tribe. She may have suffered more harm than you realise. Do not leave her side for now."
Korran tilted his head, amused. "You say that about every female, they all are rare."
"True," the Shaman admitted, "but I mean it more this time. It has been many years since I last seen a snow cat and it was not in these parts."
Savannah sighed, rubbing her temples again. That headache hadn't fully faded, and now this cryptic old man were piling mysteries and suggestions on top of her confusion.
"I just want answers," she said quietly, "I want to remember and I want to stop the forgetting."
The Shaman smiled sadly. "Then you'll need patience and I will do some thinking from what I already know on healing the mind. Perhaps a strong mate or two to keep you from stumbling into trouble would not be such a bad idea - I do not see any mate tattoos on you.." The Shamen was truly sympathetic to her at this time. He believed that this females mates must have died protecting her.
Korran cleared his throat, not looking at her. "We're not—she hasn't—"
"At least you're not the Moonborne," the Shaman interrupted with a laugh.
Which unexpectedly, Korran joined in laughing at.
Savannah blinked. "The what?"
"Never mind, Snow-Cat, never mind," the old man waved her off, turning back to his fire. "Just a myth. A bedtime story that the cubs are told. Probably...."
Savannah exchanged a look with Korran, who could she she was uncomfortable but discounted it as unfamiliarity with the story.
Great.
Now she was a possibly-magic amnesiac leopard girl in a tree-village full of beastmen. Where it might turn out that she is part of a myth, and she still didn't even know how to get down from this tree village.