A woman in black raced against the clouds, her eyes on the road as she ran. The bundle at her shoulder shook as the moon shone down on her panicked face. Her frantic gaze searched the broken ruins of the city, seeking something. The night was strangely silent, as though the city had withdrawn to leave her in her terror. Turning in an alley like a cornered fox, she ran back the way she came, her wide eyes on the clouded sky. She stopped by an old chain-link fence, putting her bundle down carefully by the gate. Her hand trembled as she bent to fasten a pendant of fine silver chain beneath the mass of red hair peeking out from underneath the blankets. The black stone on the locket glittered in the dark.
"Take care of him," she whispered, and she ran. The city was consumed in silence, save for a rush as of great wings in the smoky air. The wind swelled with the coming storm.