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"The Storm's forces are in sight and en route to the fortress, more of them than I can count. Seems to be mainly hobs, with little overall coordination. Though it's broken into a many smaller units lead by one leader, taking one out might cause his group to lose cohesion, hard to tell. No sign of the General, or any aerial forces, yet. Three and Four are heading in to take a closer look."
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"I'll inform Mr. Tickle and prepare the remaining units for deployment. Keep your eyes open, sir, the Storm's forces can be unpredictable."
The radio crackles into silence. Autumn Three and Four are near to the horde.
The radio crackles one more as Autumn One's voice echoes through Rick's glider.
"Autumn Leader, One. Glass clouds seem to be gathering. Be careful of your trajectory. Last you need are torn wings."
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"Copy that, One." And Rick did indeed pay a bit more attention to the clouds within his field of vision; as well as any thermals, gusts, or turbulence that might be near them. It was undoubtedly much easier to drift into a patch of rough air that would throw you into a cloud before you could react than it was to drift into one of the things by accident.
"Three, Four, this is Lead. What are you seeing?"
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"Leader, Three. We're seeing some strange activity at the rear of the horde, still hidden in the deep Hedge. It looks like the Briars are shaking quite a bit. Permission to fly lower?"
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"This is lead, permission granted. Just use your best judgment, and don't give anything on the ground a shot at you." As he spoke, Rick twisted around in his own glider, hoping to get a glimpse of whatever had caught Three's attention.
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Rick surveys the scene below and can see that General Etalon has begun the march of Sacramento's army towards the enemy, the ground being eaten up between the two forces. Behind the main group, he also spots his Winter compatriot beginning to stride, leading a unit of tall, grim figures that marched in pure precision, their scythes menacing.
But that isn't what really makes that Dread Lord sit up and take notice. Instead, it is the movement from the Hedge behind the Storm's forces. What initially looked to be a larger number in hiding is actually not.
It appears that the Hedge itself is marching to war, uprooting itself and heading to smoother the fortress and any in its way.
And Autumn Three is swooping to get a closer look....
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Rick could feel himself freeze up for just a second as his mind came to grips with the impossibility of what he saw below, the very thorns marching against them. Something he'd never thought he'd see, though he'd never discounted anything as a possibility where the Hedge was concerned. And he could all but feel the slow roiling of fear in his belly, feel its acrid taste mixing with the gunmetal taint of sudden adrenalin in the back of his mouth. But then he pressed it down, tempered it, mastered it; as he had so many times before.
There was work to be done here.
His voice snapped with sudden authority and urgency as he activated the radio once more, "Three, watch yourself! That's the Hedge itself marching beneath you!" His head craned around, gauging the distance they'd traveled from the main airship. "Garth, did you copy that?"
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"Say again, Autumn Lea...oh, shit!"
Rick watches as Three is snatched from mid-air, a long tendril of briar whips into the sky and snags the glider, wrapping around its frame.
"Its snagged me! I'm going down! Oh, shit, the thorns are alive, like teeth, like teeth!"
Static. The radio crackles with static as the glider is dragged into the Hedge itself, the last transmissions being of Three's frantic cries. Autumn Four, however, has managed to get back airborne and out of range. "Crap. Three's gone," the clockwork pilot states with surprising emotion
"Autumn Lead, this is Goyle. Confirmed transmission. We're thinking of something. Stay alert. This is new to us," the Lieutenant replies to Rick, stating the obvious.
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