Blackfoot Forest toil and trouble

For anyone that wants some fortune-telling, or scattered advice about child-birth. You can assume your character already knows about her, if you want!

It was overcast, and Blackfoot Forest was dark and quiet as the grave. Nary a shadow stirred beneath the thick canopy of ancient trees that made up the core of the wood, where Ramona skulked among the stooped and twisted bodies of ancient trees.

Tinnitus screeched like a malfunctioning hearing aid in her ears, but the sound was intermittent. There were brief moments of complete, blissful silence that stopped the weathered little fox in her tracks - in those few seconds, her mind was clear. She saw everything. Thoughts roiled like storm clouds in her blank, cataracts-afflicted eyes, sparking off each other. Then nothing. The high-pitched whine returned, and Ramona's rat-like face became an ugly grimace.

"Tensions climbing, on the rise", she sang in her raw and shaky voice, swaying softly, "She's in for a cruel surprise." She stooped low, and the rhyme became an unintelligible mutter. Scraggly whiskers brushed against the forest floor as she motored on, searching for the next moment of clarity.