The Ice-Cold Winds Hid Whitewing Vultures
We got caught in a snowstorm on our way to the obelisk. I pushed through the howling winds, possessed by my goal, but when I turned back to drag my new assistant along, her rosy face vanished behind specks of white.
"Fran!" I yelled. Her response echoed, sounding miles away. Then, a horrible screech shook me to my core. I rushed towards her, piercing the veil of snow. When I finally spotted her again, she was cowering beneath a vulture that hid inside the whirling winds.
I found my freezing fingers wrapped around a stone and tossed it with all my might. The vulture tumbled down, disoriented, and I stomped it until I felt its skull give in. Then, I froze.
I think Fran spoke to me as she took a bone sample, frantically brushing her hand across its wing, but I heard nothing. I looked at her face and saw her rosy cheeks gushing blood, ripped apart by claws. "She will never be the same," I thought. "And neither will I."
— Loraine Crim, Yearfall, 508 D.A.