Her sister the bird had died long, long years ago, and she wore the carcass on her head, carefully preserved. Once, she had been able to fly with sister the bird and see people doing things that they should not be doing. It was the way that she had achieved strength and power. Now, she rested on her suspicious eyes and exceptionally good hearing for one so old. Sometimes the wind would bring her whispers from other villages, saying what was going on there. It was strange, for she had mostly lost the ability to hear people talking even in the same room. But she could hear from farther and farther away. It was only those close that she had reason to fear. All other threats she could hear coming. But when you see threats far away, you may miss ones close. She knew that, and so she became extra careful over time, cooking her own food and refusing any that others gave--
Inspiration:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/ronnyreportage/8229671438/Story potential: Low.
Notes: Though I like the idea of losing the near when you gain the far. Kind of a balance of power thing.