Now Raven knew of a great shaman who could teach Raven many things about the World and perhaps would give him a solution to the problem before him. So he ventured off into the woods, eventually arriving at a small hut with smoke trailing from the smoke hole. Raven knocked and opened the door and stepped inside. The air was warm and thick, and by the light of the fire, Raven could see the shaman dressed in his shaman garb with a skirt of cedar bark, a tattered smock of deer hides, and a crown of bear claws. He was dancing, this shaman, and Raven wondered if word had already spread about his new invention called Dancing, or if he had unknowingly tapped into something universal, or if he was in a time warp.
On his face, the shaman wore a trance mask, further upsetting Raven, who regretted not taking quick action to trademark and exploit the whole Dancing thing—dance halls, discotheques, marathons. Raven never trusted a masked man, as masks conceal facial expressions and therefore limit non-verbal communication, which is mostly how meaning and nuance are conveyed.
The masked shaman danced closer to Raven, and Raven could see life in the shaman’s eyeballs but nowhere else, and Raven was frightened. The shaman removed his trance mask and placed it on Raven’s face, and Raven fell under the power of the mask.
