It takes you a moment, but you think you have an idea for how to get across the main point.
“Sorry I can’t tell you yet,” you say. “I really do feel bad. Probably going to be a little nervous until I get a chance.”
On the word nervous, you tap your stomach for a moment. Rivers doesn’t care much for figures of speech, so she probably won’t guess it, and nobody else is close enough to see what you’re doing.
Corvus just nods. He seems to have made the connection.
Suddenly, you hear a loud howling sound from outside.
“That’s odd,” Yvonne says. “Storm’s getting stronger, that doesn’t usually happen this soon into one.”
“Maybe it was already going before we spotted it?” Marshall asks.
“Not likely, or we’d have seen panicked animals a lot sooner than we did.” She ties a rope around her waist. “I’m going to take a look outside. We need to see what’s going on. If you hear me scream, someone pull me back in.”
You’re now Yvonne. You’re peering out slightly from under the protective cloth.
What do you see?
some real menacing silhouettes, which shouldn’t be possible given the circumstances
Pubert, with a very tiny knife, looking like a deer in headlights.
The Eye of the Storm.
An Eye. Just one.