Milo IBATA

BANA BILAKA by Milo IBATA

The sun rose over the savannah, spreading its golden light across the vast and rolling grasslands of Africa. The animals began to stir, the few lions that remained stretching and roaring feebly, while the gazelles not one to be seen, the elephants trumpeting and swaying their great trunks in rage. But one figure remained still, a solitary figure on the horizon, his long, wild hair blowing in the wind.