The behemoth lets out a sound, not a roar but a trumpeting squall, and the swarm answers, a furious sea of snapping claws made all the more terrifying for the shadows washing over them. They're getting closer, more densely packed, and even though her ears are ringing from the shots, she can hear the behemoth's claws striking the ground like blows from a giant hammer.

The ground slopes more steeply here, packed dirt turning to a rocky rut from the spring run off. She sees him walking backwards and tries to warn him.

"Ichabod! Watch out!"