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Chapter 198: The First semester XXI
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... eat later. A rumble that started with the soil telling a story to the roots, climbed into the trunk bones, and came out through the leaves as a shiver. Then the noise resolved into individual pieces: the dull ceramic thuds of Stonecoils, the mad drum of Ridge-backs, the scrabble of claw on bark where Snaptails chose a side and committed to it.
Rhea didn’t waste awe. "Pack or wave," she snapped.
"Wave," John said, already mapping angles. "Too many types. Not talking to each other. ...
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