Wordcount: 206 words
Summary: Please note, this is currently a very rough draft. There will be spelling and grammatical errors afoot as well as flat out bad writing, info dumps, plot holes, flat out contradictions, and uneven characterization and pacing. (Content is also subject to constant change as I take an editing chainsaw to the story.)
“We’ve got movement.” The scout reported, coming in for a landing a few lengths outside the command tent.
The folks inside gave the foxhawk annoyed looks as his wings swept a cold breeze through their midst.
“What kind of movement?”
“Fledglings and teenagers.” The scout said dismissively. “Three pair, on foot.”
“If they’re smart they will not stay that way.” The commander said thoughtfully. “Warn the scouts to move out and up, let’s see what they do.” He turned to the other commanders. “Let’s get folks inside and keep things minimal, no point in giving them targets in case this turns nasty.”
“Shall we fog the harbor?” The elder foxhawk cocked its head. “We might be able to bring a bit of a storm in too, will depend on the weather.”
“Everything depends on the weather, eh?” The commander grinned and the foxhawk flicked its ears noncommittally. “Yeah, do that, better to hide the harbor for now.”
The elder foxhawk got up, shook to resettle its feathers and then headed out to hunt down the weather workers.
“A bit much for just three kids,” pointed out another commander.
“You have seen the dreams,” the commander pointed out coldly, “there’s too much at stake here for mistakes.”