Closed [Calendar Event] When the lightning strikes.

[Ruari Darkwind]

3 SU 515 AV

For the third morning, Ruari woke to find the air sticky with humidity. Her hair was matted to her brow, providing the uniquely distressing sensation she so loved when her fingers roved across her forehead, her neck, her cheek, to unstick it.

When she woke enough to bring herself from her bedroll and open the flap of her tent in order to entice a breeze inside for a respite from the humidity, she knew that it was in futility; the heat would not abate until it stormed and there had been little wind for the past few days since the watchtower flared that today should be no different.

After having opened the flap of her tent, even if it was futile to do so, Ruari pulled on her clothes, swearing to herself that she'd make a stop and find something airier than the shirt and pants she wore so she might cool down better as the day progressed, but secretly knowing that she wouldn't actually do that. She'd be busy with something, whether the horses or the cats, and really wouldn't think too much about keeping cool when she'd be busy on horseback or chasing behind a feisty animal. Sweat would keep her cool if nothing else could.

Her thoughts, dwelling on the clothes she swore she would be buying, were interrupted at the sound of footsteps, indicating someone was approaching her tent from one of the nearby tents put up by her older siblings for themselves and their wives. Ruari was finishing pulling on her pants by the time her visitor arrived at her tent, and she looked up at her eldest brother expectantly with her hair wet from sweat and her eyes shining bright in the morning light.

Oisin Darkwind snorted, amused at the sight of his sister suffering the heat of summer's start.

"Didn't bring breakfast?" Ruari asked him, cutting off what she was sure to be a bout of laughter similar to the snorting of a horse. She signed out the words for humour, curiosity, teasing. "What do you want?" Her eyebrows rose. With no gift of breakfast, Ruari suspected that Oisin needed her for something, and she wondered to the health of the animals in the heat. Were there complications with the seme's pregnancy? Was the broodmare acting out?

He must have read her concerns from her expression, for Oisin shook his head. "There is food in the pavilion," he told her. "Was coming to see if you wanted to ride with me and Faolan. Kid's getting wound up in the heat, mother needs a break." The signs he gave her read concern, query, please, and Ruari had to accept. Of her many siblings, Faolan was her favourite; he was spirited like their father, but kind like his mother without that subtle scheming feel their father often gave off. He was genuine. Ruari liked that.

But she had a list of priorities to follow.

"Food first, ride later," she said eventually, finally pulling herself from her tent and rising, then starting to tie back her hair from her face. If she was lucky, she'd have a moment to wash her face and hair before the ride, but as it was, her stomach called at the promise of food.

[Rufio]

　　
　　　　　　　　 rufio had awoke alone.

It had been a fitful night's sleep, the humidity dashing any hope of comfort. Her blanket had been thrown off, as well as her clothes. Syna's light filtered in through gaps the Half-Drykas had left between the canvas of her tent and the ground, in unsuccessful attempt to woo a breeze.

Rufio rolled over with a frustrated groan. 'It can't be day already.' With a sigh, she mustered strength suppressed by humidity lethargy, and rose. Her thick, cropped hair stuck up all-ways and beneath, her sleepy eyes were laden with dark-circles.

With exaggerated effort, she pulled on a pair of hide leggings, though she didn't bother with a top and simply wrapped a scarf about her chest for medesty-sake - it was too warm.

Then she slipped into simple woven sandals and thought of the day ahead. Some foraging wouldn't be amiss, she decided, hoping for some cooler breeze farther out in the Grass-Sea.

With that she took up the gear she'd need and packed it into yvas bags. The wild-maned Wildmane stepped out into the pavilion campsite, resembling a Grassland lion rather than a woman as she roared an unabashed yawn.

Grandmother Raen was already sitting outside the large pavilion tent, a little ways across, on her usual seat of blankets. The elder peered over at Rufio and tsked with her sign. Lazy-bones.

Rufio ignored the elder's sign and responded- Morning. "Great-Mother do you want for herbs or greens?" Gather, forage, offer.

Raen smiled at that, a flicker of fondness for the half-blood's kind soul. As much as she teased Rufio, there was a bond of affection between grandmother and granddaughter. Not in part because they were something alike.

"You best be bringin' me back something decent to cook with..Not those greens you thought were edible the last time!"

Rufio made a face at the elder, trying to hide the blush that warmed her cheeks beneath her freckles. Without her usual alertness to retort with any well-countered wit, she plodded over to her Zavian-mix to ready for her day.

Sakta nudged Rufio's shoulder with her nose in greeting, and Rufio patted her withers. At least someone was being kind to her this morning.

Rufio dressed Sakta in the yvas and yvas bags, making sure the gear was neither too tight nor too loose. The physical actions began to waken her sleepy-temper, and she began to anticipate the morning ahead with welcoming feelings.

Foraging had always one of her favourite tasks, since a child. Her mother used to take her on her gathering trips, journal in tow. Rufio would watch her mother sketch the herbs she gathered with utter fascination.

Now, it took her into the Grasslands, and into solitude; where there were only plants to contend with. 'And they don't bite-back...' Her thoughts shot silently, affectionately, at her Grandmother.

Rufio placed her hands flat on the mare's back and hauled herself up, throwing a leg quite ungracefully over the mare's rump. Raen tsked again at her granddaughter. Rufio side-glanced her, utterly aware of the scrutiny of her steed and her horsemanship.

'One day.' Rufio thought with determined spirit. 'One day, I'll be with a Strider.'

Straddled comfortably, the half-Drykas pressed her heels into the mare's sides, and left with a wave. Sakta was happy to be ridden and kicked up her hooves with enthusiasm.

Rufio held onto the mare's mane, finding the rhythm in the jaunty paces, keeping her back straight, but relaxed, and she was soon bumping along to the mare's beat.

Even though there was no wind, the mare's pace created the lightest of breezes and it ruffled Rufio's hair. As they made their way through Endrykas, heading for the Wind-Knotted Gates, Rufio soon left behind her morning grumpiness.

Her dark gaze rose to greet the grey, welling clouds, hanging low above their heads. Zulrav was fickle with the weather the beginning of this Season.

Rufio sent a silent prayer for some light rain, anything to dissipate the heavy air that sat sticky around them. She wasn't sure her temper would survive if it were to remain so humid like this all Summer.
　　

[Ruari Darkwind]

The three of them broke their fast together on dried meat from the night before and small, hard apples that were definitely past their date yet still sweet enough to be palatable. They gathered supplies they thought they might need, which for Ruari meant her waterskin, a bit of food that she could eat for lunch if necessary, and her blades.

It was when Ruari had mounted her horse that tragedy struck; Cidhna, deep inside the pavilion doing gods knew what, bellowed the name of his sons, every one of them, as if he expected them to still be in camp. The noise was enough to startle a few of the horses, as well as Rhoswen, who shied away from the large pavilion and nickered. Ruari, cued by both the yell and the nicker, ran a hand along the graceful arch of her mare's long neck, affectionate and reassuring... and secretly glad that it hadn't been her own name to have been yelled with such fury.

As expected, Faolan and Oisin didn't come her way, not in the handful of chimes that she waited for them. In her wait, she tried her hand at braiding a bit of Rhoswen's mane, creating a bit of an ugly knot that barely retained the desired shape. Rather than being sour over her shortcomings, though, Ruari laughed to herself and murmured an apology to the mare.

Not content to wait out the day for when Cidhna let his sons out of his sight, Ruari simply urged Rhoswen forward with one hand in her man and the other braced lower on her shoulder. The discomfort came quickly; she rarely rode, a shortcoming in itself that Ruari didn't like, and it emerged quickly when she found her back stiffening. It wouldn't be the worst of it, though. The real aches came up when she dismounted, and then they would be awkward.

Though her destination was the Wind-swept Gate, Ruari's path was winding and haphazard; she went through other campsites, shying around other people, and crossing upon families happily at lunch. The horse knew the path, though, and although her rider was uncomfortable, she brought them to the Gate without any mishap and with, perhaps, a touch of excitement at being able to run on the grassland with her bonded rider again.

When they arrived at the Gate, though, Ruari noted another mounted figure, a Drykas woman, she assumed, ready to forage also. It was only when she closed in on her, Rhoswen interested in another horse she wasn't familiar with, that Ruari felt a bit of recognition.

"Heading out?" Ruari called. As the rider wasn't facing her, she didn't handsign further meaning into the question, but tried to put more into the words. "Hunting, foraging, or running?"

[Rufio]

　　
　　　　 sakta slowed, her ears swiveling to catch Ruari's words before her rider, the sociable mare veered into the other horse, bumping shoulders in friendly greeting.

Rufio's senses caught up to the horses', and she twisted lightly atop the mare, coming freckled-face-to-freckled-face with a Darkwind.

"Ruari!"—recognition lit a smile in Rufio's face, its warmth reaching her eyes as she made to clasp her distant cousin's forearm gently in an embrace over the rubbing bodies of their steeds.
Surprise, pleasure, excited, greeting.
"It's been too long...Ah, foraging."
She answered with a quirk of her dark brow.
"Grand-mama Raen has sent me out."
She spoke of her paternal grandmother, Ruari's grand-aunt; known to all as an elder not to be reckoned with.
"And you?"

Sakta had come to a complete stop now; making soft nickering noises, and shaking her head gently as she chattered with Rhoswen. The Zavian wasn't so bright as the Strider, but what she lacked in intelligence the mare made up for in enthusiasm.
　　

[Ruari Darkwind]

Rhoswen, friendly and playful, moved of her own accord to interact with the mare that bumped her, snorting and stepping right back into her, and Ruari smiled upon recognising her cousin, freckled face and all.

She met Rufio's clasp with her own, genuinely pleased to meet a familiar face, and shared the sentiments with shared signs, as if mirroring the darker of the two. Pleasure, excitement, curiosity. In the rare instance where Ruari opened up, which occurred typically with family, she was very openly happy to see happy faces. "How have you been keeping?"

She made an aggreeable noise at mention of foraging. She was going out to forage also, and she signed the similarity, job duty in response without the normally accompanying verbal component. At mention of Raen, once a familiar face among the pavilion, she smiled broadly; Raen was someone beloved by Ruari and the younger Darkwinds, she was a standalone idol to many of them. Nobody was as immortal as Raen.

"I came to forage also. Do you want to come with me?" Maybe it was the weight of the air that had Ruari speak directly, or the heat that threatened a storm in the future. Ruari would be happy to forage with a cousin in lieu of her brothers. Her hands, as they typically did, fluttered out the signs to show the offer was genuine and straightforward.

[Rufio]

　　
　　　　" rufio! Rufio!"
　　　　　　　　—came a familiar call.

Rufio twisted at her waist, feeling the stretch in her back as she set a hand on Sakita's rump, and turned her ochre gaze to the call's owner inquisitively.

It was Louka. He trundled up with long strides, the wind tugging through a thick mop of curls that bounced with his jaunty gait. Syna's warmth glistened off of his bare, sweating torso, criss-crossed with leather straps.

Hanging on these were a myriad of twine traps, a waterskin, a hunting knife. In a quick sweeping glance, Rufio took in the half-spear in Louka's hands and deduced that he must be heading out to track and trap.

"Tal'ck speaks - he wants you to learn to read Semele."

Her favourite freckled Wildmane said, with a subtle sense of pride tinged his posture—that his tracking prowess had been recognized by the Wildmane Ankal.

Surprise quirked in Rufio's uplifted brow and she argued. "But cousin Ruari is going out, I want to go out with her." Herbs, forage, family, desire.

Louka shunted his weight into his hip and cocked his head. Rufio recognised the stance as his half-shrugging 'I don't make the rules' look. She sighed and looked to Ruari with sincere apology in the wave of her sign. "Sorry, Ruari."

With that, Rufio thrust out an arm for Louka to clasp. Leaning her weight aside, creating a counter-balance, she felt the pull in her bicep and shoulder, the muscles there tensing taut, as he hauled himself up onto Sakita's back behind her and she helped him up.

Sakita grunted, uncertain about the new weight, and swayed atop her four hooves, making Rufio grasp the yvas and Louka clasp an arm around her waist.

Ruari's strider nipped the Zavian mare playfully, chastising her to stand still for her riders, while Ruari, Louka and Rufio laughed softly together about it.

　　　　With promise of meeting soon
　　　　　　　　the Wildmanes and Darkwind　　　　　　
　　　　　　　　　　　　parted ways.

▿ ▴ ▿

　　

ooc :

Awkward bridge post as Ruari is gone.

[Rufio]

　　
　　　　" look, you see the way these leaves are disturbed?"
　　　　　　　　　　　　Louka was kneeling, in cut off hide pants, his bare knee in the dirt. His large, delicate hands were caressing the twigs of brush, indicating the leaves at their edges, which were bent backwards and clinging limply to life.

　　　　Rufio, not listening.

She had wandered away a little ways, where a tiny rivulet of the Bluevein River glistened in a shaft of Syna's light, reaching through the gloomy din.

Rufio was crouched, her woven leather moccasins sinking into the bank a little, her deft fingers brushed along large leaves of plantain plants before tugging them away from their stalks.

　　　　Louka sighed—
　　　　　　　　　　　it had been too much to hope that anyone would pay attention to him, even understanding Rufio. He stood.
　　　　　　His cousin tossed her hair as she looked up to peer through the grasses with a narrowed gaze, as if she had heard something up ahead. Louka huffed, impatiently, and shook his head. It was then that her freckled face turned towards him.

　　　　　　　　　　　　"Louka—" Her voice was distracted as she looked about the swaying grasses. "—I think there's something out here."

　　　　A fork of lightning flickered across the sky.

They looked up. Louka with nonchalant curiosity. Rufio with an anxious frown. She couldn't tell from whence it came—this uneasy feeling. When the thunder followed the lightning the hairs on her arms prickled.

Louka chuckled at her, amused even with his impatience, and went back to examining the dirt. Rufio hastily plucked a few more handfuls of the broad, fleshy plantain leaves, before wrapping them in burlap.

Wandering over quietly to Louka, her smile was encouraging and contrite—"Alright, Master Tracker, teach me to read Semele." She crouched beside him, and he, again, showed her the disturbed scrub.

"See the way these are different to the rest? It is a disturbance. An animal passed through here and its body broke these as it brushed past. Semele holds memories of what comes and goes. This is a message."

Rufio held her palm behind the broken twigs of the brush and leaned in to examine them with curious ochre gaze. Sucking on her cheek in thought, her brow furrowed and she queried—"how do you know it was an animal?"
　　　　　　　　　　　　The Tracker laughed quietly and shrugged, bumping shoulders with his cousin in that 'you're ridiculous but I still love you' way. "What else?"
　　　　Rufio felt a grin seep across her lips despite herself, and returned with playful haughtiness. "I don't know. Strong wind, a heavy rain?"

　　　　　　　　Louka looked surprised, and cocked his head in an affirmative, signing creative, thoughtful, true. Her mind had taken in elemental factors he hadn't considered. He signed—attention, see—as he gestured towards some indents in the ground under the brush.

Rufio did as bide, looked, and he explained—"See, animal prints."—her expression flickered with surprise and her hands leapt with excited interest. Louka smiled, pressing on with his lesson.

"This is the back of the track-"—his fingers swept over a rounded impression. "-Here is where the animal's toes dug in."—his fingers indicated two marks which were laid deeply into the dirt.

　　　　　　　　　　　　Lightning f l i c k e r e d overhead.

As if the oppression of the heat broke under the weight of humidity, a storm brewed. Forks of electric-fire danced between clouds.
　　The grey sky rumbled, a r o l l i n g e c h o
　　　　that vibrated in the chest.

Rufio looked up, worry set in her shoulders.

Louka was busy studying the imprint, a hand cupping his jaw as he thought, until finally he signed—recognise, ken. "This is boar." When he looked at his student, he saw her staring up at the sky, read the fear that was creeping into her face.

Reassurance "Rufio, don't worr-"—static prickled along their skin, Rufio felt the hairs on the back of her neck lift, her spine tingled. Louka's words cut off.
　　A lightning fork
　 ripped up
from the grasses ten paces to their right.

The air crackled with it, and the scent of burnt flora, charred earth filled Rufio's nostrils. She cried out, hands unconsciously gripping at Louka for comfort, safety. The lanky Wildmane found himself clinging to her in return.

Light flickered in the sky, like fireflies streaking across the grey, leaving angrily bright imprints on their retinas. Thunder rumbled like a war drum, growing loud with each lightning strike, punctuated by them.

　　Sakita neighed nervously,
　　　　　　calling her riders to her.

Rufio felt her weight burn in her calves as she rose so slightly to peer over the brush towards the mare, too afraid to stand, for the lightning.
　　　　　　　　The mare's white rump stood out against the collage of green and grey, her red-dun coat was a warm splash under a shaft of Syna's light. Her nose was lifted high into the air, nostrils flaring, her ears laid flat against her skull against the growling sky.

Rufio, still gripping the leather straps about Louka's chest, tugged as she took to a crouch and started to make her way towards her horse—"Let's not stay."
　　　　　　　　—he did not argue.

　　

[Rufio]

　　
　　　　 the stormy sky roiled black and grey.

The wind had picked up, and was whistling through the grasses, which danced in waves, flattened against Semele with each of Zulrav's breaths.

The red-dun Zavian mare was braying anxiously, her speckle dappled rump swung this way and that, as Rufio and Louka settled in behind her withers, their three manes tossed in the wind like wildfire.

Rufio brushed her fingers into the mare's thick coat, and called out words in Shiber to soothe her, struggling to get the mare to listen to the commands in the weight of her hips. "It's alright, Sa..." Her words were lost in the thunder.

Louka cuddled Rufio's midriff and shouted against the thunder. "Fi, we have to go! Run her, she will run for home, just run her!"

Her heart rumbled against her ribs, her breath sucked in the wind, felt it ripple across her gooseflesh skin. It set her spirit alight. Fear and adrenaline congealed in her. Run, run with the storm. The mare seemed to beg in the quiver of her hide, the stomping of her hooves, the lash of her tail.

Rufio felt the mantra echo in herself. When she pulled her weight to the side, creating pressure into Sakita's flank the mare pivoted on her hind hooves, lifted her fore off the ground and pulled away into a canter in the direction of Endrykas.

Lightning streaked down and plashed against the ground a distance off. Rufio heard a cry and recognised it was her own. Her ochre orbs were wide, and wild.

In the near distance she caught glimpses of the colourful pavilions resting in a dip in the Sea Of Grass. Relief seeped into the adrenaline-fear that gripped her. Safety lay that way, home.

As they rose up a knoll in the grasses, her line of sight was caught by the visage of a man, chasing after home too. Over her shoulder she heard Louka whoop, call out to the Drykas. "Hai, hai!" Aid, here, hurry.

Rufio tangled her hand into Sakita's mane and leaned in to direct her towards the Sea-farer, wondering if Sakita would take the weight of three Drykas at a trot for the remaining mile home.

The man turned towards the riders and relief gushed across his old, weathered features, mingling with the stress and grief that lay there. His grey, braided hair thrown wild, yvas bags hung on his shoulders.

"Where is his strider?" Rufio's worry resounded aloud. Louka behind her felt the same alarm spike in his gut and looked at the plains rolling around them. "I don't see it." He called back.

Rufio opened her mouth to call Sakita to slow, leaning back gently, the mare seemed slow to listen, nerves on edge, preferring to chase the wind. "Ho-ah, ho-ah!"

Lightning streaked.
Exploded in the grasses just before their path.

The Zavian shrieked and reared, teetering unbalanced. Louka slipped from his grasp, pulling his cousin with him, they cried out. The thunder bawled, rumbling deeply in the sky.

A scream of pain struck the dense air.

　　

[Rufio]

　　
　　　　 rufio felt her shoulder hit the ground with a wince. Heard Sakita's hooves thump against Semele as she cantered off.

"Sakita!" Rufio cried out, desperately. When she peered over the grasses, Rufio was relieved to see the splash of red-dun hesitate and halt. The mare listened, and turned to seek her riders again, ears laid flat, flanks quivering.

With a sudden jerk, Rufio got up, ignoring the dull ache in her shoulder. "Louka?!" Her lanky cousin groaned and was kneeling in the grasses over a pace or two. She knelt by him and put a rough hand under his arm, hauled him up.

Her ochre gaze scanned the grasses for the Drykas they didn't know. He was nowhere to be seen. Rufio's heart began to hammer. "Where is he?!" Bade her plea, as if Louka might sight him better. The taller Wildmane did, cried out. "There, I see him, he is hurt!"

They rushed to the dip where Louka led. When they found the Drykas man, Rufio felt her stomach lurch. He lay in the bent and burnt grasses, moaning in pain. Smoke rose up from where the lightning had struck. Embers hissed, the cold wind suffocating them, unable to grasp furiously at the grasslands.

Louka gripped Rufio's arm tightly, it hurt. Angry blisters erupted along the man's wind-marked flesh, the skin on his cheek was torn deeply, down his neck, melted, his hair charred where the electric fire hit.

Bile rose in Rufio's throat and she swallowed it hard. Tearing out of Louka's vice-grip, she rushed to the stranger. He was sobbing uncontrollably, shaking and shivering, in agony.

Rufio dropped down to her knees beside him and hesitated with her hands. Should she touch him? Her heart stammered, her eyes pricked with tears childishly in her panic.

"Louka get help!" She commanded with more courage than she felt. The Wildmane took a stride towards them, reaching out with his hand to get Rufio up.
"Rufio you can't hel-" He began to persuade, pragmatically.
"Louka, The River Flower!" Rufio snapped, urging, desperate.

With that, he raced off to fetch Sakita, and they galloped off to the tents not so far. A healer might be brought in twenty chimes by strider. All she had to do was keep this man alive.

"Stay alive." She whispered, a pleading prayer. With a spark of surprise, she recalled she had plantain wrapped in burlap in her pocket. A fortunate coincidence that she had took to gathering it when she had seen it today. It struck her with superstitious awe.

With haste, her fingers fumbled with the burlap wrapping. Clumsily dropping the large fleshy leaves as a gust of wind buffeted them and the victim moaned. The tenor of pain in his voice hurt her heart.

With tears spilling down her freckles, Rufio broke up the plantain leaves and began to crush them in her palms. "I don't know what I'm doing; I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." She whimpered.

The man was too far gone to hear her through the blinding heat searing at his skin, still burning at flesh, given life by the wind.

Frustrated, impatient, panicked, Rufio gave up on crushing the plantain and began stuffing it in her mouth to chew. It would be faster, she had thought. Wrinkling her face at the bitter, astringent taste, she kept chewing until it was paste-like.

Spat it out. With shaking hands she put it over the man where his skin was peeling from his flesh. "I'm sorry." Rufio murmured, tears and snot running on her face, as she pressed the raw plantain poultice into his burning flesh and he sobbed openly in pain.

"It will help, I promise." Please stay alive. "The healer will be here soon, just hang in there."

Frantically, Rufio looked out towards the pavilions swaying in the storm, too far away. Willing horses to show up against the wild grasses.

　　

[Rufio]

　　
　　　　　　　　 rufio's heart lurched into her throat, her breath sucked in sharply, at the feel of a hand grip hers, a tight vice-grip.

　　　　　　　　　　　　She looked down into the now-open, wild-seeing steely-blue eyes of this Drykas man, with terror contorting his face, his voice choked as it tore up his raw throat.

" the dark"

Rufio felt her heart hammer in her chest, her breath came so fast, she asked breathlessly. "What?" She leaned in closer, to hear. His marred wind-marked bicep tensed, and he yanked her in inches close.

Rufio felt his hot breath ragged against her face, her ochre gaze locked by his, frozen, unable to move past. Fear gripped at her. " the dark one" he insisted, as if she should know what it meant.

Nausea swept her as she smelt charred flesh, and Rufio tried to pull back; to get away from the madman's pain ramblings. His grip tightened, her eyes winced shut and she whimpered, though she dared not wrench herself free.

" the dark one." He spoke, calmly this time. Rufio dared look at him again; those steel-blue eyes stared beyond her, over her shoulder. Rufio felt alarm grip her, startled, but he held her tight.

" the dark one is near."
He rasped finally.

Rufio felt his dread seep into her; deeply, foreboding.

When a gust of wind broke the trance. Thunder roiled in the sky and Rufio heard hooves amidst the rumbling sound as a party of riders approached with an emergency haste.

It came just chimes too late.
He choked, and coughed, and was bid to The Web.

Rufio felt his grip slack, his arm go limp. Heard his breath rattle up his throat for its last, and felt something shift. Felt his spirit leave his body. A great weight of confused grief settled over her.

With detached feeling, she felt hands take her shoulders and move her from where she knelt, felt arms wrap around her and a deep voice speak to her in soothing tones.

Vaguely she recognised it was Tal'ck, her Ankal, though she heard nothing of what he said. She shivered uncontrollably, cold, was wrapped in a blanket and guided to a horse. Shock took her in, and she sunk into it grateful for the ebb of the panic.

She cast her gaze towards the healers and watched with numb detachment as they worked to keep a life from slipping into The Web.

Struck by lightning, a man died before her gaze.
His mad-struck premonition haunted her thoughts.