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A swarm of meat-eating cloud-crawlers?
The Grassgreen daughter lays low. And skittle deeper in the storm.
Green motes are flying, undisturbed by wind. A few smaller, still triangular-prism shaped being seems to be grazing.
The storm's warmth bite the Huntress. She's used to lower temperature, not much while being so close to positive temperature while wet.
That's enough for her pilgrimage. Better be safe, and report the findings back at the tribe, which takes those news with greater interest.
>You have a Free action. It must involve the storm one way or another.
