The small farming village was pretty much decimated, with the waub-and-dauttle huts on fire from lightning blasts, the muddy ground flooded from the torrents of icy rain that was pouring from the sky, and mortals corpse sprawled haphazardly around the village. The thunderbird was feasting on the dead bodies, hungrily tearing apart corpses and even eating a few people alive. The few remaining mortals were trapped in a cyclone of whipping wind, shaking with terror as they watched their loved ones devoured.
Gleefully watching the carnage was Wind Weaver, who hovered nearby with powerful gales whipping around her. It looked like she had succeeded in summoning a thunderbird, which was not good news.
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