>>6003484> A pilgrim sets off into the storm, following her intuition that something of value to the tribe lay within.Packing food, mustering all their courage, the young Matriarch steps in the plains. Trailing through the heavy snow, she soons reach the permanent cloud storm.
Wind lashes at her, snow is up, down, left and right. Visibility is awful. Sounds are dimmed.
Wait, what is that?
