They Fly At Ciron
“When Rahm threw a last handful of sand and grit back to pock the water and, elbows high and winging, waded up the bank, his hair was a black sheet bright on his back and his dripping skin was raw—but both were free of blood.
Vortcir perched on a log jutting above the rocks, wings waving like a great moth’s.
A leg still in the foamy rush, Rahm looked down to finger up the chain around his neck.
“They were planning to come through the mountains—to Hi-Vator. Hi-Vator was right in their line.” Vort...cir cocked his head to the side, above his own Handsman’s chain. “We heard what they’d done to you and your village. Certainly we couldn’t let that happen to us. No sense of weapons, god, or money—you’re not far enough along toward civilization for anyone to take you seriously. Still, I did not like these Myetrans—and my aunt said attack. Then, my friend, I heard your name through their accursed speakers—and after that your own call. Well—these are all things to put out of your mind.MoreLess
Vortcir perched on a log jutting above the rocks, wings waving like a great moth’s.
A leg still in the foamy rush, Rahm looked down to finger up the chain around his neck.
“They were planning to come through the mountains—to Hi-Vator. Hi-Vator was right in their line.” Vort...cir cocked his head to the side, above his own Handsman’s chain. “We heard what they’d done to you and your village. Certainly we couldn’t let that happen to us. No sense of weapons, god, or money—you’re not far enough along toward civilization for anyone to take you seriously. Still, I did not like these Myetrans—and my aunt said attack. Then, my friend, I heard your name through their accursed speakers—and after that your own call. Well—these are all things to put out of your mind.MoreLess
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