Smoke And Ash
Kan Lam walked the streets of the upper village, surveying the destruction, compulsively counting dead animals. He tried to make himself stop, but every time he passed some sad crumpled corpse he added a number. He was an educated man, he could count as high as necessary. For once he almost wished he had less education. There were surprisingly few people dead. His mind shied away from that thought, but not before the image of the yew in the meeting ground filled his mind. Thank the King, nobody tried to fight.