Hanging against the tree trunk, Jethro had managed to stay away from the Magma Sloth's haunting periphery. That was the only reason the magma constructs had stopped clawing their way out of the ground.
But those damn Flamewing Crows, made of fire and razor-sharp talons, caused him to lose his grip when he ducked.
He fell back to the ground, spine-first. The Crows dived in a fresh wave, talons flashing, trying to rake his face apart.
Scorch, now on the ground beside Jethro, hissed furiously at them, a jet of superheated steam blasting from his vents. The flock wheeled back, keeping overhead, watching for another chance to strike.
Jethro got on his feet fast, jaw set, shooting the mechbirds a glare before his eyes locked on the Magma Sloth in the distance.
The normal eye wouldn't have seen the deadly mechbeast from so far off, but with [Deep Sense], Jethro could even see the deep exhale that left the Sloth's nostrils, and the hunger in its calculating eyes.
