Northstar Vale All for nothing.

That night, winging high over the mountains, she thought the winds had shifted in her favor. The winter chill had followed her from the north and now carried her over clustered pine forest, most of which was dusted white, and she was content. By the time morning rolled around and the first glimmering of dawn hazed the air with greylight, Aniuk could be found perched upon a large branch central to the vale.

She hunkered close to the trunk and fluffed her feathers up, trying to warm herself. As she began to drift to sleep, as this was her usual routine of late, something large and dark swarmed her vision. A piercing sensation first to her breast and then to her wings, as feathers were plucked, and flesh was pecked; she let out a startled noise and almost fell clear out of the tree.

Around her flocked a trio of ravens. They must have seen her come in to roost — and after biding their time, set upon her with the rage inherent to their kind. Aniuk fought against them as best she could, but their attacks came swiftly and from every angle, until she could hobble her way earthside to a gaping, rotten log, within which to hide.