Hajin ducked beneath the shelf and stepped onto a ridge overlooking the basin hidden inside the mountain.
Thousands of folded wings covered the cliffs beyond the nursery, every snout angled toward the exit like a drawn arrow. He gripped the spur beside his foothold and searched each ledge for a body turned the other way, finding none.
'Thousands of them, and every last one is pointed at the door I used.'
"Aligned with the exit," Aria warned, tracing the outward current through their dormant channels, "surface mana flows straight into their paths, and they keep drinking it while the road above waits for another hunting pack."
"So they're not waiting for somebody to open a door."
Hajin let out a low whistle through his teeth, "They're waiting for somebody to string them like arrows, and then he picks where the whole damn valley gets shot."
The mobile body crouched below the ridge while feeding strands crossed its shoulders like reins.
