Hajin ducked beneath a sloping shelf of purple slate and stepped out into a vast basin beneath the northern peaks.
Hajin climbed a crumbling ridge of purple slate, his steps light and steady as soft hide moccasins gripped the damp rock without slipping.
High above the subterranean valley, thousands of winged bodies nested along the jagged cliffs, their leathery snouts turned toward the outward pull.
"Look at their orientation," Hajin observed in a muted whisper, resting his fingers against a protruding rock spur.
"Every single winged predator is angling its skull toward the canyon entrance."
"They are aligning their dormant pathways with the external spatial fracture," Aria confirmed as diagnostic amber lines swept across the vaulted ceiling.
"The outward pull draws ambient mana from the surface atmosphere down into this valley."
"They are not waiting to emerge randomly," he deduced, his split pupils narrowing under the pale glow of the cavern moss.
