The conversation around us gradually returned as the workers resumed their tasks, though the atmosphere carried a different energy than before.
Watching a creature powerful enough to level mountains get cut apart by a single attack had a way of reminding everyone why certain people carried the reputations they did. My father had already returned to the center of the operation, speaking with several officers while teams moved through the surrounding ridges to assess damage and resume construction.
I found myself watching him more than I intended.
Beside him, my mother was far busier.
While the others focused on rebuilding damaged sections of the outpost, she seemed to be coordinating half the operation at once.
The realization had barely settled when movement erupted near one of the observation posts. Several scouts emerged from one of the underwater valleys at extraordinary speed.
We could tell something was wrong.
The men weren't simply returning. They were racing back.
