Chapter 48: An attack.
THE DELINTERS WERE on the move. Oi, the damn creatures were heading this way. Nigel had guessed they would come. Peltratria smelled like sweet barberries and sounded like a dying fogou fish—an irresistible beacon.
The ground heaved, a violent tremor as mighty hooves, like battering rams, trampled everything in their path. Nigel's eyes snapped behind him, peering through the thick, interwoven wall of leaves. A sickening crack and crunch echoed in the distance as a tree crashed, then another. His mum used to call delinters “cranky horned hippos," and his creator found it “cute."
Nothing about an angry herd of delinters was cute.
The canopy above rippled and shook. So not good. The treetops swayed violently as the herd barreled straight for the ship and the yelling
