The restlessness of the flock begins with the first pegasus that appears across the meadow and circles above like a hawk- Ru. Several naked, red-washed heads pop up from their pecking and with a jerking, tilting motion, eye the flighted horse warily.

It continues when a small filly, Farah, breaks into their masses, nosing around as if sniffing out the best of them to munch on. Numerous displeased clucks warble through the throng that moves around her like brown, feathery water.

The rafter truly breaks however, as a horned filly, Merlin, stalks them with her raptor. The excited, hesitant clucking explodes into a high-pitched wailing of worry as turkeys abruptly clamber over one another, wings flapping and snoods swaying. They're too large to actually properly fly, but it doesn't stop them from trying.

Though the flock is so large, this initial ripple takes some time to expand from its source and infect the whole flock. More horses come however, each one a new pressure that sends the flock into an increasing tempo of panic, such as the shouts of Vesper and the rushed arrival of Maude. Albrecht's threatening display tempts a furious male into combat, the robust tom flapping bravely up towards the antlered horse, while Yael's approach, Tilney's yelling, and Erthe's crafty sneaking send several hens into hysterics. The appearance of Nephele's vulture, Johnny's griffin and the dragons of Volterra and Najya did little to help. By the time Iona, Vastra, and Alysanne calmly walked up, the frenzy had grown too great.

Birds were wildly running and flapping about, their squawking clearly disgruntled, and their haphazard movements blindly chaotic to their own safety or anyone else nearby. Such was their frantic state that the orb was kicked and jostled about numerous times, vanishing into the throng of turkeys until...

Three bright flames darted in from the north. Two peeled off on either side of the feathered mass, flanking the group, while the third leapt right into the middle and vanished among the throng of gobbling goons, only to abruptly appear, orb in possession, from the midst of the fray. The center flame wriggled up and bounded from the back of numerous turkeys until it had escaped the main horde and settled back on the northern outskirt between the other two.

"WHOOOOOOOOOO-WEE!" one cried out excitedly, leaping up. "Yous was right Matches! Them hawses jus' can't ignoore the oorb can'ey!?" the other one barked, chortling with laughter. "Flint, Zippo, I tol' ya! Thas why I'm thuh brains 'round here."
There, sitting on the edges of the flock, were three fire foxes. They appeared almost ethereal as their bodies, composed utterly of fire and flame, danced too and fro with an eternal burn. The center one, Matches, grinned. His toothy, bright smile growing around the orb he held onto.

"Listin up hawses!" one of the foxes cried, Flint, the thickest of the trio. "Iffin yous be wantin' this here orb, than you gotsta keep the flock movin, ya hear!?" Matches, the smallest of the three, bounded forward as his brother began to speak, nimbly bouncing off the back of the turkeys as he ran for the front, set to guide them all south, towards the Heart. "THIS HERE'S A TURKEY RUSTLIN'!" the other fire fox cried; Zippo, the scruffiest of them all, his tail bolt upright with excitement. Flint and Zippo yipped shrilly and lunged into the already chaotic flock, nipping and driving at the birds.

Though not as dramatic as the Wilde-beast stampede in the Lion King, the rafter of turkeys which had been swelling with anxiety now broke into a dead run, overwhelmed by this last final threat of both fire and foxes. Most took off south, the only real opening left among the gathered crowd, but several just darted in any direction they could see, breaking off in small groups or singles with a terrified gobble.