Meanwhile, the army in the Holt had been delayed with flying to the Toft due to the bad weather and the birds were annoyingly distressed about something as they hadn’t stopped making noises since the storm had started.
Easton sat inside the barracks looking at maps and other plans, which was situated in a row of caves inside the roots of a tree. The general sat across from him, “We cannot go to the Toft until tomorrow. The weather conditions are not right for the birds, we risk falling off in these winds”. The general was a blonde-haired man, clean shaven with a solid square jaw, he looked like a very serious man, but Easton wasn’t paying as much attention as he should have been. Easton was making a noise of agreement, but he wasn’t truly listening as he was more interested in watching
