The Lightning Strike

The tension that had been in the air felt as though it had been a rubberband, pulled back and held for so long that the incoming snap of whatever was bound to strike hard and fast and hurt like hell. And when they had all been summoned, she had come swiftly and fast to the scene, surveying all that was there as though she had stumbled upon the leftovers of some crime. Only the crime was yet to be committed, and she found through tense gazes of her companions that something was truly to come.

And so she had listened, honing in on the unease that was there and for whatever reason, keeping it at bay. The silence, barring their own murmurs and sounds, was not deafening. It was like a blanket lain across the bowl basin of their home, a stillness that was only broken by whatever distant grumble of thunder rolled out. The time of day was lost on her, perhaps even impossible to tell with the inverse discoloration of the sky, and even of the ground. It was mute in comparison to the usual vibrancy that had long engulfed them through the warm summer.

Nanuk captured her wavering attention, the words perhaps lost on Echelon who had only gathered there on the note of summons. The reasons why she did not care for, it was simply that they were taking action. Though she moved to Tonravik's side wordlessly, her eyes found it hard to stay off the sky, ever trying to discern what was brewing there or what was to come. The unease that she had tried to keep away was slowly finding its way in, no doubt stronger now that she had pulled herself up to Tonravik. She leaned against her for a moment, curving around her and her unborn babes as though it would still that not-so-understood feeling she was beginning to have. A silent note of support, perhaps unwanted, but nonetheless given.

She was ready to go as soon as they set off.