In the distance, the rolling clouds billowed forward as the daytime progressed. Thunder boomed upon the northern horizon as the afternoon sun was blotted out. The Dwarfs chuckled and conversed in their native tongue once they finished with their merry tune. 

The Drabarian pipped in when they asked him a question. Apparently there was a shared language as they spoke. He regarded Mallow curiously, but then shook his hand with a grip that could shatter stoner. The travelers seemed to have, for the most part, begun to relax from their long journeys and sit down a spell. 

The minutes slipped by, and lunch was in the process of being eaten by many of the vagabonds and travelers. It caused many of them to nearly drop their meals when they heard one of the booms of thunder much too close for what was conceivably possible. It seemed to happen just above the Cairn, and yet the realization was now clear as day. There had been no lightning. 

It was the Dwarves and Drabarian that looked upwards first, as well as the Gypsy. They gazed into the sky, less than a mile north of them and almost directly upwards. At first, there was nothing. No thunder or sound. Merely grey clouds obscuring the sky and teasing the vision. And within moments, it changed. Two shapes hurtled downwards, looking very small at first but swiftly growing to huge proportions. Great membranous wings flapping to and fro as two great creatures ripped and tore one at another in freefall. 

"Dragons!" The leaner Dwarf cried, helping his other companion up as the two grabbed their things and hightailed out back down the slope as fast as their stubby legs could move. Above, the Dragons hurtled toward the Cairn in a grappling ball of fire, claws, and muscle.  
[@IcePezz][@Mortarion][@BurningCold]