[justify][indent][indent]The morning sun crested the ridge in a slow, gilded sweep, its first light spilling across the fields in drifting ribbons. Pollen and stray petals caught the glow, floating like pale sparks shaken from some slumbering giant’s breath.

A soft breeze threaded through the blossoms and grain alike—gentle, cool, almost ceremonial in the way it brushed against Aramis’ coat. As if some unseen mother-spirit of the land passed a hand over her children, soothing them before the inevitable chaos to come.

Below, the Greatspur flock lumbered through the fields in ponderous waves. Massive bodies swayed and thumped with each step, feathers shuddering like banners caught in a storm. Their gobbling rolled across the countryside in deep, resonant quakes—an absurd chorus for creatures too foolish to inspire anything but ridicule, yet too large to dismiss entirely.

Aramis stepped up beside Locke, his boots sinking into the damp soil, dew soaking quietly into the leather while the morning light traced a pale outline along the folds of his coat. His gaze followed the flock’s destructive wobble with the bemused detachment of a man long resigned to this world’s insistence on presenting threats that defied all dignity. One hand rested on his staff; the other stayed tucked in his pocket, fingers curled, his stance steady despite the thunderous absurdity below.

[color=536dfe]“We should consider shaping the field before committing,”[/color] he said, glancing sidelong at Locke, the sunrise reflected faintly in his eyes. After a beat, he looked back toward the land. [color=536dfe]“A trap might serve us better than a direct charge.”[/color]

He lifted his staff slightly, pointing toward the far end of the fields where the land dipped and narrowed between wooden fences. [color=536dfe]“Those irrigation trenches… and the carts stacked along the fence line. They could form a bottleneck if we guide the birds through here. Narrow their approach enough, and they’ll have no choice but to funnel straight in.”[/color]

His attention drifted back to the slope, expression sharpening as petals drifted lazily past on the breeze.
[color=536dfe]“Of course, that would require someone to draw their attention first. Turkeys this size will chase anything that looks even remotely like a challenge.”[/color]

He studied the terrain, then the flock.
[color=536dfe]“It could be anyone, really.”[/color]

He shifted his stance as the breeze ruffled his coat again, sending loose blossoms drifting past his shoulder like wandering thoughts.

[color=536dfe]“In any case,”[/color] Aramis finished, tone returning to its usual evenness, [color=536dfe]“it’s only one option. If either of you prefer another approach, I’ll adjust. Best to lay out choices before we commit ourselves to being flattened.”[/color]

He exhaled softly, a thin mist leaving his lips before the warmth of the rising sun swallowed it. His eyes followed a few petals dancing across the ridge before they spiraled down toward the marching birds below.
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