Forty Six

Gerey spread out his arms, ready to blast off - with bright red or blue scorching flames, the creatures whose hoofs him, Sir. Oswic and Jeyrin could hear hammering and drumming into the air in multiples.

He knew that his life was at stake as well as Sir. Oswic's and Jeyrin's, too, if he made a silly mistake but still, he felt confident, and fierce, and in control as he always did when in a battle with his element.

From afar, he caught a glimpse of the tyronimics whose dark, leathery skin blended with the dark world making it look like a natural camouflage like the ones grasshoppers have in a green field, charging towards them at a speed faster than that of Uncle Eallric's 404.

Gerey Wysalt moved his hands in a few circular motions which would've made no sense to an onlooker, ready to strike. 

The tyronimic got closer, unrelenting in its velocity and intensity. 

When it

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