Omenal. Kumal.A voice is in the breeze, rolling in with the dawn that brings you no light. And the voice, too, does not bring favor.
Sin, rulityl.A chill runs through you as the voice lingers in your ears for a moment longer. You almost hear it sigh.
Kak surthind … kluse.The breeze dies down, but your sense of discomfort persists, crawling against your skin.
You feel far more on edge than you did before.