The Sunspire Oh, should my people fall,

Back into the mountains. Back up, away from the flooded lowlands. Back to what is safe, what is comfortable, what is home. Her Ravens were never far behind her. She could hear them, whispering to her, somewhere between real and imagined. 
And through the whispers and throaty cries came a different voice, an earthly one. A voice of anguish and frustration. 
Curiosity drew the phantom in, and she searched, waiting for another call, another signal of the fellow stranger's direction. She even went so far as to tilt her own muzzle back, an answering response. 
I am here...where are you?