rocks from Doulos's left.
"Cheyne?" came the weak answer. "Is that really you?"
A hail of stones rained down on the snarling, laughing canistas, and they broke off the attack and scattered through the low brush in all directions.
"We are here, Muje! By the tree," cried Doulos.
Just then, the canistas, no longer confused, herded back together and bounded through the brush and charging Cheyne and Yob. Half the pack separated and circled warily around the ore while three others took turns rushing Cheyne. The beasts were quicker than anything Cheyne had ever fought, and seemed to enjoy dancing in and out of his dagger's range, snapping at his heels as he whirled around and around, keeping them away. The others, wide grins on their slavering jaws, paced around Yob and began to narrow their circles.
They were within seconds of closing in when Doulos began to yell an ancient Neffian war cry at the top of his lungs from the tree. The shrill sound bounced around the flinty rocks and echoed off the mountainSONG OF TIME