- Portent -

THE FIRST drop fell.

It was the purpose for being.

Green and glistening, it landed on the blanket, etching through the woven fibers as fire would consume kindling.

Another followed. Another.

That which is Dhryn must survive.

Another, reaching the bandages beneath, eating through those to find flesh.

Another. Another.

The flesh responded, instinct fighting drug. The scream should have had meaning.

That which is Dhryn must find the path for the future.

More drops, until they began to collect in the dust.

And the mouths could drink.