~Skreeeee~
A high, piercing cry tore out of the lesser elf, a sound closer to a war horn than anything.
The fighting beasts stopped dead in their tracks.
Every Frost Stalker, every Snow Creeper, all of them froze mid-motion, jaws still locked on flanks, claws still raised, blood still steaming in the churned snow. The brawl that had consumed dozens of Five Star beasts halted in an instant, the lesser elf's voice pulling them out of their frenzy and back under control.
The lesser elf stood at the base of the spire with an angry expression, and it began to speak.
The language was foreign, nothing that Moon or the others could understand.
Judging by the mouth motions, it contained sharp syllables, and long vowels.
The beasts remained quiet, heads lowered, simply listening in fear.
Whatever the lesser elf was saying, it was reasserting its authority over the horde.
Then it reached for the bow across its back.
