War Chief Alexa was having an excellent dance. All of her senior leaders had complimented her, and about half had danced with her. The dancers had been excellent, so she had no reason to complain. The squad of druids that she’d recruited to her cause had all shown their faces, and she’d heard the rumor of a new one arriving to help the cause.

All in all, Alexa relished the opportunity. Her victory was assured with the druid's newest creations, the platoon of Ragamuffins would already be settling in while they danced.

It wasn’t until she saw the crack in the ceiling that she began to think of anything except for her success. The flames came down in waves as the screams began.

***

River wove another portal from the burrows. A hungry Freya and River passed back through.

They saw the flames as the heat from the running cats all brought them to bear.

“Can you fly?” River said.

“I… I can.”

“Find the bond. Make your way back. In the dark.”

“And what are you going to be doing?”

“I’m not supposed to intervene. That doesn’t mean that I can’t sow discord.”

Ahead of them, the fires of a large camp stirred with the shadows of movement.

“You want us to split up?”

“Someone has to tell the regiment. Fly over the Denoue, and talk to someone. Anyone. You have to convince them. I’ll buy you as much time as possible with Sela.”

The screams from the manor drowned out everything. With a crack, the wyvern shoved a large three story window out from the ballroom. Magical smoke rose up behind them.

Freya clasped wings with River.

“I’ll see you on the other side.”

River clasped back.

“I’ll be there.”

***

Sela felt the heat. He felt River’s bond depart and then five minutes later return.

They’d talked about a bait and switch, but never enacted anything like the chaos that he saw presented from his hidey hole across the field.

Sela smiled. River’s bond was leading her inexorably back to him. He still needed to pass through their lines somehow but the diversion had begun.

Or perhaps it was the main event.

***

Muk had taken the convoy and stayed for another war council meeting. The headquarters element always moved people from one stated location through an intermediary.

The result being that when he arrived for one meeting, he was often three minutes away from the actual meeting and a sparra had to escort him to the actual meeting.

The claw wasn't pleased with anyone, except for him. They were beset on all sides by probing scouts and the bulk of the enemy warriors had been encamped west and outside of the furrows.

Only the swift moving river and the peninsula nature of the furrows held them back. The regiment had been on the defensive before their lines had been drawn here. The Denoue river was a lucky break in a bloody campaign.

"Ah, quartermaster, so good of you to join us on this fine evening," the claw said.

"Evening sir. Anything I should keep at the top of my mind?"

"We have to be flexible."

The restaurant on the side of the river had placed them on the second floor. They waited for their spy master and marshall to begin. A conspicuous mole and sparra stood guard next to them.

When the marshall arrived, the first round of foodstuffs arrived. The quietly professional bird kept his voice low as he ordered tea for the table.

"Marshall Yee," the commander said.

"Claw. Quartermaster."

For as many words as the Marshall used to control the movements of the regiment, he used the inverse here. It wasn’t that he had little to say, far from it. He saved his words for what was important.

The spy master and historian of the regiment arrived last and together. A rabbit and mole respectively, the two nodded. Both wore campaign fatigues but devoid of any mud or dirt.

"Master Sergeant, ah we have reached a quorum," the Claw said, "Let's begin."

The tea arrived and the five animals sipped it. The claw, commander of the Yellowrock Regiment nodded to the historian.

"Someday, we'll get a fox into the council," the mole said, "but with today's disposition of forces there are few to spare. These are historic times and as such I had completed the naming book. Our companies to the north are a bit anemic but we can address that with rotations. Nothing else to report sir. The work continues.

"Thank you. And you have gotten enough stories so far to appease the queen and the gentry?"

"I have sir."

"Spymaster?"

The rabbit brushed back her cloak. Two ears flopped.

"Sire, we did get one report of a cat patrol that was wiped out. They were about to attack one of our convoys and an element counter attacked. The quartermaster would know more about this particular incident."

All eyes turned to Muk.

"Indeed sir, the most recent convoy to the supply base from home was almost hit, but a small squad of special mercenaries escorting some engineers hit them as soon as we noticed. There were no casualties."

The claw took a long sip from his tea.

"Marshall, did you order mercenaries and some engineers?"

The room fell silent.

"No."

"They said that they were on a secretive mission. I didn’t want to pry. They rode in on chickens and they've camped next to the scouts now," Muk said, his whiskers fidgeting all over.

"I'll need to see them," the rabbit said,"however aside from the front line the amount of probing squads have been on the decline recently."

The marshall and the claw both nodded.

“I’m worried that the cats are about to make a move. They may be pulling their patrols back in for some reason.”

The window over the sea lit up as flames shot into the sky from a distance away.

“I think that it might be time to muster the troops,” the Marshall said, “that’s a sign if anything.”