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Summary
“What are you doing out here?” T’Challa asked.
The lights from the Jabari Tribe’s fastness were blinking on behind his sloped shoulders, winking bright against the snow and stone, too far away for definition. T’Challa was wrapped in a red patterned shawl over black robes, apparently impervious to the cold. M’Baku knew better. The fanged necklace T’Challa wore. His bracelet, his shoes. Rampant technology. M’Baku looked away.
“I come here to think.” M’Baku waved a hand over the ice.
T’Challa looked from the light globe at M’Baku’s hip to the small cave beyond, hollowed out by hand into an uneven dome, at the bedding, the books. At the staff hung over the doorway, a tooth of vibranium cut along the seam, unadorned. “Alone?”
“I don’t need guards to feel confident. Your Highness.” Besides, M’Baku was wearing his armour, his staff close by.
Series
- Part 1 of Shadow of the Panther