Aug 17, 2008 11:00
[It's the sound of the hail that awakens her inside the church, and the freezing temperature second, the Viera much more used to the humidity of her home jungle or the dry heat of the Dalmascan desert. Fran shivers, and sits up, unfolding herself from the prone position she'd been lying in, and stands, slowly making her way to a window to observe what's going on outside. She grimaces, and doesn't even realize she's on the second level.]
This is not the Bahamut. And such violent weather cannot be natural.