The main tribal encampment was in absolute, chaotic disarray.
The disturbance had been far too massive to ignore. Even though the spring was tucked away in a secluded place fold a fair distance from the main settlement, the phenomena had simply been too monstrous to hide.
The sky cracking open, the bleeding purple-black void, the sudden, suffocating descent of heavenly wrath, and that abrupt, world-silencing vacuum… it had shaken the settlement to its very foundations.
The victory feast, which had been winding down into slumber only hours earlier, had violently shattered into a war-camp on high alert.
Fires burned high in the braziers along the central avenues. Warriors ran in disorganized knots, gripping heavy their weapons and shouting over each other in sheer panic.
The unawakened clansmen, women, and children were huddled near the central longhouses, trembling under the belief that an angry sky-god had descended to wipe out the Veynar.
