She jumps a little as Lan Wangji pulls a sword from thin air, but most of her attention stays focused on her patient.

"Why wouldn't it be s--"

That is as far as she gets, for Kimberly Ford, for all that she is no longer the Seer of Brennin in Fionavar, is still a Seer born, compelled by her gift to see beyond what is said, to look through the spaces between words and understand the deeper truths hidden amid the loops and whorls made by the Weaver's loom.

Clear gray eyes widen suddenly, fixed on something beyond the room.

"Ithilinne," she says, clear and carrying, and the strange timbre to her words now is that of a Seer deep in her vision. "The White Frost and the Wolf's Blizzard. The storm will howl, the Hunt rides--"

Images flash through her mind, of unnatural Hounds and a shadowy figure with burning eyes in dark armor behind them, a wild and deadly snowstorm, killing cold--

--a shield held against something she cannot see, power crackling from the fingertips of a black haired sorceress standing behind a man with cat's eyes, golden and feral, with white hair and whirling swords as he fights his way free of monsters--

Kim gasps in a breath, surprised to find it is not frozen, then chokes out,

"But not here."

With that, the vision releases her, and she is able to breathe normally again.