Whitefish River pop goes the weasel 'cuz the weasel goes pop [BWP]

references the rockslide at Silverlight Terrace -- backdated to Monday 9/16

It started as a distant rumble, not unlike thunder. But different -- more consistent. More constant. Soon after, Vercingetorix felt the trembling beneath his paws, the echoes of a distant calamity.

What the fuck?

He'd seen and experienced a lot in his life, but there was no doubt he was unnerved right now. What kind of shit was this? Was he losing his marbles, or --

No, wait, he'd heard talk of trembling like this over the past quarter-moon or so. But still, this seemed different. A harbinger of something bad. He gritted his teeth, grinding them, staring uneasily into the distance from his place by the river.

The earth was moving, and Aure hadn't come home. Shit wasn't right.