Zephyr, the West Wind, brings storms in from The Lost Sea. We raise the watercatchers, and the rain falls into the cisterns.
Sirocco, the East Wind, brings pleasant smells from the flowers of The Rainbow Valley. We lay in the grass and dream.
Gust, the North Wind, brings the dust and grit of The Endless Desert. In less than a minute, flesh is stripped from bone. We raise the red flags, bring in the animals and equipment, and seal our doors until the wind stops.
Whoosh, the South Wind, hasn’t been heard in years. Nobody alive remembers what it brought.