AT:M 68

Sirra heard a different battle behind her, presumably the crawlers, which sounded every bit as bad as the bombardment working over the village. It was clear safe spaces in the immediate area were evaporating rapidly. She gazed at the open space between her and the opening of the run of trenches, and again found herself unwilling to move.

From across the way she could hear the shouts of Pakit’s warriors forming up for their assault, heard the tramping and running of hundreds of booted paws moving around unseen. The story was There, and Sirra was stuck Here.

The pounding on the village lifted, eclipsed by the raging crawler battle behind. If there was any safe moment to cross the gap, it would be now, but Sirra’s self-preservation didn’t care. It had overloaded from the events of the day already.

“That’s too bad,” she ground out, “the day isn’t over yet.”