Sebastian's breath misted as he lowered his staff. "Scouts. The smallest of what slipped through."
Alaric wiped his blade against his cloak. "Then we press on."
The sky darkened suddenly, though no clouds moved overhead. A chill swept across the clearing as a shriek pierced the silence, high and harrowing.
"Eyes up," Heappal warned, shield raised.
From above, wings blotted out the weak sun. The beast descended—a horror of leathered wings, its body like a wyvern but corrupted, its head split into three snapping maws. Spittle rained down as it shrieked again, circling.
"Hold formation!" Alaric barked.
The beast dove, talons outstretched. Heappal braced, his shield catching the strike, though the force nearly drove him to his knees. Alaric leapt, swinging upward. His blade sliced across one wing, tearing through sinew. The beast howled, banking clumsily.
