Morning mist still lingered on the blades of grass at the far end of the garden, thin as floating white silk over the ground. Asher Ryder pulled his coat collar up a bit higher, stepping over a small mud puddle in front of the gate.
The village road was still completely deserted, with only a few sparrows chirping in the bare bushes, occasionally preening their feathers and tilting their heads to look at the tall man walking past.
The village chief's house was located quite far away, boasting a spacious courtyard and a sturdy cattle shed roofed with water coconut leaves. The old man was sitting on the front porch, holding an ebony smoking pipe in his hand, his mouth exhaling thin trails of white smoke that dissolved into the chilly air.
"Oh, is that Asher Ryder? Come in, come in," he waved his hand, a smile wrinkling his sun-darkened face: "What brings you over here so early in the morning?"
