some marks before:
Kiala tended to Catherine with her own motherly way, splinting it with the help of Niamh before she moved off, finishing the task on her own with little effort. It hurted to move the arm, but the bleeding had stopped. "You'll be okay now dear, try not to move that arm too much for now." She looked over to the edge of the woods as some voices rose. "Seems Petran has returned dear." Indeed, Petran had returned. Still in his panther form he was...running from something?
A dire shape chased the kanthan into the torn village. A visage of terror and pain, terrible cries arising from it under the shade of the trees. As it broke free from the shadow of Gnilwoh, and hit the sunlight which was at it's brightest it screamed in terror and agony and seemed to vanish into thin air, almost as if it had never existed. Petran was exhausted and laid himself on the ground.
It had been marks since the collapse and the Kanthrop village was in a state of mourning. The hunters had returned from their searches and brought back the last remaining dead or injured. Petran was joined by Oni and their own as they convened a meeting in what remained of the town square.
"...Something evil. I tell you it is not natural!" The voice of Petran raised high above the gathered crowd of those able to stand and walk. "The woods are darker than ever, That thing..." he pointed at the ragged peak which had emerged in the center of the once tranquil forest "...is not of this world. There are things, creatures there which I have never before seen or heard of. I'm not even sure how to fight them."
"They can not be fought."
The voice was a familiar one. And all eyes turned to see the shaman of the village standing at the edge of the square, leaning heavily on his staff.
"They are things of an ancient and dark past, a secret only known to a few besides the Dreamweavers and hidden in darkness for many tides." Voices raised in the crowd, questioning this strange tale. Those who had witnessed the dread creature emerge after Petran from Gnilwoh Forest were terrified and some started to cry for everything that happened in the past two tides.
"Everything can be fought. Don't presume us feeble and weak like yourself old man!" Petran was furious, his eyes burned with the fire of hatred and pain. He had lost some close friends in the crash and Analor Goldenback, their leader, was also still missing.
"Only the words of the Dreamweaver can guide us, and only those chosen to be spoken to will be able to show us the way. I've sought them out, I've been trying to reach them for many marks but they are silent to me."
Another voice rose from the crowd. "And what about Skymyst? What of the island? I hear the Eye of the Steelclaw tribe is dead, and Tilar of the Wavetalons comes back to tell of another island beyond the mountain ranges where once only air surrounded us. We need to investigate, see what is out there."
"We are set upon from all sides, we are doomed, doomed."
"Oh shut up you old bat."
"You shut up."
"SILENCE!!!" Bickering will get us no where. We must find out what is going on. We are no longer isolated it seems so we'll have to build our defenses. Against foes from without, and apparently from a strong foe within. Who will volunteer to these tasks?