After they had disappeared around the corner of the barracks, Everson slithered under the lowest rail of the pen and proceeded through the milling birdun in a stealthy crouch. Those lucky beasts who had eaten first now gravitated toward the back of the pack, trying to muscle their way past the rest of the herd who hungrily pushed forward.
Pummeled by a flapping wing, Everson couldn’t help but wonder how a simple wooden pen, open to the air, was supposed to detain a creature that could fly. Then again, he didn’t know much about birdun. They quickly gave him a glimpse into their personality.
The beasts nearest Everson were skittish and shied away. Their long necks undulated, nostrils flaring. The bulbous eyes on the sides of their heads bulged indignantly at the intrusion. Worse, they beg
