After tossing and turning all night, she’d slept little. When she did, she dreamed of a snowy field covered with ravens. Black and shiny, they had lifted from the snow in a mass and flown away as if they were one bird. Soundless. No cawing. No rush of air from their many wings. Eerie silence. Ellie rubbed her eyes. Ravens? Ravens were very smart birds. A single raven could be a sign of wisdom, of coming enlightenment. But an unkindness of ravens, the flock deep black against the blinding white of snow? Contrast. Some sort of significant change. Trouble. Aye, that had to be it. They had to be a portent of trouble, despite the clear day her windows revealed. Ellie shivered at the memory. A deep shadow on clean snow. But why had they made no sound? Trouble then, with no warning of its coming? She sat up and kicked away the covers. If the weather stayed fair, the wagons were due to leave early this morning. The sunshine told her they must be preparing to go. She had to get downstairs before they left.
