The governor was no longer listening, so Dawn turned her attention from the future to the present.  Most dark spirits hunted like wolves.  You might find one alone, but you were far more likely to find several.  Just as the good spirits came in all kinds, so did dark ones, and now the woman went to the dead cow, kneeling to look at the wounds more closely.  One hand slipped into a small pouch at her waist, one of several, and drew out a handful of crushed, dry plants and charcoal.  Under the guise of her examination, she scattered enough of it around the wretched animal to purify any lingering traces of evil.  Only then did she dare to touch the remains.

It was strange.  She thought she recognized the sort of spirit that would kill in such a way, torn, messy, strewing entrails about and traces around the scene confirmed that there were indeed a few of them.  Yet their meal had not been finished.  Something had disturbed them before they were done.  The spirits of the land did not like to stay so close to the houses of the villagers, and while another group of dark spirits might have contested the kill, the victors would have eaten more than was missing.

The spirit woman moved further afield in search of answers to the puzzle.  It seemed the interloper had driven the attackers off, judging by the tracks and the signs of fighting.  But she did not find enough evidence to know what it was.  No matter.  She returned to William, and waited for him to finish speaking with the farmer.  Perhaps he would tell her what he intended, when the two were done talking.