Branwen ap Pwyll, Raven of the Donnar De, shaman who knew the tracks the masses of the world left in their wake, knew many things. She could treat wounds, fight man and beast alike, tame animals, make horrendous poisons and miraculous cures alike, most of this being knowledge passed down from Pwyll ap Lleu, her father and the Boar of the Donnar De, the shaman before her.
She was no fool. Nothing really surprised her anymore. Jaiep was a land of many surprises; ironically, that meant none of them had such an effect on her anymore.
However, she didn't quite expect the world beyond the Gates to be like this. The Donnar De, as a rule, had no houses like a few of the tribes she'd met in their comings and goings; they lived in tents, pitched where the tribe stayed and lifted with the moving of the world's masses. Here, there were houses towering above trees, made of stone and metal. There couldn't have been more than a hundred people among the Donnar De, maybe a thousand among the tribes they regularly had contact with, but here thousands upon thousands walked and lived all in one place.
She was a grown woman, true, and she'd long since outgrown the age when she was naive enough to wonder at everything small and large. Still, Branwen would be lying if she said she wasn't a little fascinated by the world that lay beyond the forests and seas of Jaiep.
"To think this is how the Hub-men build their cities to hold so many. I've never seen so many people...."