Dozens of feet above the forest floor, a dark wind rustled branches and tugged at the trunks of mighty trees as it sped toward the edge of the wilderness overlooking Hanrahan town.
Within that dark wind, shadows seemed to bend and twist, taking on new monstrous shapes one moment and vanishing the next, leaving any who glimpsed them uncertain whether or not they'd seen anything at all.
When the wind reached the camp where Sybyll's army had spent the night, it paused, lingering in the swaying trees and listening to the threads of conversation that drifted through the air with campfire smoke.
"…hope that everyone makes it out okay. It's fine if they're hurt, but even Lady Heila can't heal death, and if too many people die…"
"...you hear that they took the bell from the watch tower? Lady Heila had the Tuscans rip it out to give to Dame Sybyll as a gift…"
"...just want to go back to the Vale and go back to helping in Master Georg's kitchens. I shouldn't have volunteered…."
