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There was a storm that night. The wind blew in fitful gusts, first strong, then weak, then stronger than before. Thin branches were torn from the arms of their old, jaded mothers by the droves, while the saplings twisted their spines in bizarre arcs in attempts to keep their families together. One tree near the center of the square was struck by lightening and split straight down the middle of the trunk, but as it was the oldest and most brittle of the trees it could muster no dramatics in response, and merely offered a creaking groan and an ashy smell. The sound of the downpour, as it bounced off roofs and cobbles, was ridiculously similar to an army marching in formation, and the sound of the thunder was comparable to cannon fire.
Chani laid on her bed, the covers kicked aside, one arm dangling over the edge of the matress and the other folded beneath her cheek. Rain poured on the roof cacophonously. She hadn't had a good night's rest since he'd left... Left? Died. She'd decided a while back he had died. Hadn't she? Wasn't that easier? She didn't know. She usually didn't even let herself think about him. There wasn't a point, seeing as he was gone. Gone. Everybody was gone. Not just him. Her friends, her brother... What else was gone? Dreams. Hope. Maybe. She made a silent pact to herself to leave soon, and then fell into a cloudy sleep.
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