The wind hit.
A cone of displaced air slammed into the platform and everything on it - a concentrated gust that bent the nearby branches backward and sent loose objects skittering across the steel surface. Saffi's hat - a small, practical thing she'd worn against the morning sun - lifted from her head and launched into the air.
Raizen's hand snatched it. Reflexive, fast, his fingers closing around the brim before it cleared his reach. He held it out to her without looking, his eyes still on the aircraft.
