There was a spark of light, then fire, then smoke. She returned from the southern river and found that everyone she knew had been slain. The fire had let nothing escape.

She heard the same voice again.
It said;
“Kill Fa.
Kill him,
and I will return to you what has been taken.
Come to me, and I will help you.”

As the last word fell from the air, Ama thought she saw something within the flames. This intrigue left shortly as a deluge of rain came, along with many Strandwolves, to feed off the dead.

She quickly made her retreat to the East. Not through choice, but by some invisible divine hand, masking itself as her own instincts shrouded in terror.