Ember al'Rayne, a Wisdom of a small village just west of the attack, sat on a weathered boulder listening to the wind. Only the best Wisdom's could listen to what the wind had to say. Usually it brought good news: good birth year for the lambs, bountiful crops, a gentle winter. But not this time. This time, the wind felt... frightened. It seemed to go around her to hide from what it had seen, and she smelled the coy, rusty scent of fresh blood. And it was close by.<br/><br/>Startled by a noise and put on edge by the wind, she almost struck the small saggy pony grazzing nearby. Ember's eyes softened as she stroked the chestnut pony's tuffed coat. Then she saw a woman run blindly through the forest edge.