Oom watched on as the Chief sat atop his shrine and chewed on a wrap filled with the Ima, as smoke brimmed from the pit sitting before him filled with the sacred vines. Oom had requested a reading, but not of his future like so many others from his tribe, he requested a reading of the spirits; he had long-suffered a battle from within, that sometimes felt as though it surrounded and controlled him. Spirits attacking him and ordering him to do things which he resisted. The Chief continued to chew as he entered a meditative trance, calling upon the spirits to answers his questions and interpret their “attacks”. Oom sat silently as the stars traversed the sky and the burning embers died out, remaining still and focusing on the Chief in the pale of the Winter’s Moon, until he emerged with a clear and simple revelation: Oom was a Seer experiencing unfiltered communications from the spirits from another plane.