He stands with the hauling up, flute back in hand and a nod of his head in the direction they're already moving.
"Do you have eyes on —" he says, interrupting himself to glance at Moran with concern flashing across his eyes. "Are they linking to the moon?"
How that's possible, if it's happening, is less important than the intent of it, the two moons of before missing now for the singular one in the skies. He deflects an attack by stick, or branch, or whatever it was as an improvised stave, spinning back around and forcing them back another two steps. Their assailant trips over their own feet in the process, flailing and going down on their rear with a ooph.
no subject
"Do you have eyes on —" he says, interrupting himself to glance at Moran with concern flashing across his eyes. "Are they linking to the moon?"
How that's possible, if it's happening, is less important than the intent of it, the two moons of before missing now for the singular one in the skies. He deflects an attack by stick, or branch, or whatever it was as an improvised stave, spinning back around and forcing them back another two steps. Their assailant trips over their own feet in the process, flailing and going down on their rear with a ooph.