The wolves, for the first time, pierced the night with horrifying howls. It sounded like there were dozens of them in the woods this night. One of their own was killed yesterday and they mourned the loss by visiting even more terror on the village. They were on the hunt. They would not settle for just any villager tonight, they needed revenge.
Meanwhile, Vindictus sat in his room in front of a single candle. The flickering light cast a dancing shadow on the wall behind him. In the past few days, he has foresaw the innocence of a couple villagers and the guilt of one of the cursed. Sadly for the village of Crestwood, this would be his last night he could protect them.
The howling circled in on Vindictus, he knew that he could not run, he could not hide. They would find him. For minuets he tried in vain to foresee the identity of another cursed villager, but the circling wolves disrupted his concentration as they came closer and closer to the kill. Finally, just moments before a wolf broke through Vindictus' window, the answer he was seeking came to him.
He would have to wait till nightfall to revel his findings, or more likely simply break the unbreakable rules that govern universe and communicate with the villagers during daytime. Either way, the village would have no more psychic after tonight.
----------------------------
It is now day, a sad day at that. Villagers, hang a wolf. Nightfall comes tomorrow at an indeterminate time 24ish hours from now.