Fire. Fire and ash. Hunger pangs, sharp and unrelenting. Death. So much death. Red and black everywhere. Cries of the young and old mixing together in a catastrophe of pleading until it sounded like one wail that continued until one's ears felt like they might bleed.
And then silence. Just the acrid smell of fire, smoke, and rot.
((this vision may be picked up by some Seers...how it's interpreted is up to them...just a dream, a true warning of what is to come, or confusing....))
The Omnus, appearing dainty in past youth, appeared almost glass-like fragile from age as he slowly emerged from the base of his Sacred Oak, disturbing the familiar silver mist tendrils as they lifted from the tree roots. Stepping only a few paces, he dropped to his haunches, jaws slacking open to take a few panting breaths, feeling his age more than ever now as his single eye took in the signs of new life sprouting around him and tried to shake off the dream which woke him in the first place.
The air was calm, crisp, and clean like most spring mornings are, yet a wolf such as Newanti could sense something on the wind that bore a bad omen. His nose lifted, scenting for the sting of fire, but could detect nothing. Even then, the activity of surrounding wildlife was enough to tell him he was silly to fear a wildfire; none would be out conducting daily life if the sharp crackle and burn of fire lingered anywhere nearby. Perhaps the dream was just old age getting the best of him, though this dream had repeated three times now in five days. Still, he could physically sense nothing at the moment to cause major concern, so he turned his mind away from that for now. Too unpleasant and not a timely issue.
As his thoughts sluggishly shifted to considering his surroundings, he felt a heaviness settle in his chest as his thoughts instead turned from bad dreams to bad realities. Having no one to bounce his thoughts off was a lingering reminder that he had awaken alone as he has had to do for so many years now. His mate had been met, courted, wooed, and killed within three winters of their time together and his only litter of children had fled to other corners of the forest to pursue their own notions. The fact he had even produced any heirs was remarkable given his age; yet their complete abandonment of their duties as children of an aging Omnus was surprising to him. Then again, he mused, perhaps not. He was not any better at their age, having left his mother almost immediately. Sigh.
The bone-thin wolf hauled himself up on all fours again and gave himself a good shake-out to clear his fur of the night's dust and fibers gathered while he slept within his beloved tree's trunk, then tipped his head upward again to scent more widely for something edible and preferably either on it's last leg or dead already. He had no illusions about his abilities to take down large prey these days; if he had to take the role of scavenger, then so be it.
As he strode off to find himself a suitable breakfast, he settled into an uneasy alertness, still feeling something was not quite right with the way of the world.
----------------------------------
"Something is coming," the two-legger shaman muttered to himself as he squatted next to the spitting coals of last night's fire, his brow creased deep and fingers steepled beneath his chin.
He too had been receiving the same dream as the elderly wolf but had been searching for resolution since the first night, consulting the coals and calling to the ancient elders for explanation, yet none came. The coals before him continued their silence, however, and he finally rose to his feet in one fluid, graceful motion, pushed away the flap of the entrance way, and slipped outside into the morning air.
The camp was eerily quiet, but it was still early even for his people; most were probably gut-heavy with the feast they had consumed last night to celebrate the coming spring and attached fertility that came with it. He clucked his tongue though as he noticed scraps of food strewn about the earth; no doubt their animal brethren were pleased with the leftovers that no tried to preserve or to place away from camp for safety. A sign of indifference that the shaman did not take easily to heart; someone in the spirit world would not be pleased at such carelessness and greed.
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