Someone is bound to come when you scream so loud. The sound acts like a beacon, telling of only one thing to anyone who is listening: trouble is afoot.

To your own kind perhaps that means hurry to provide assistance, but to the hungry kind, well they're more than happy to assist, their stomachs. Your enthusiasm may be significantly less in that scenario though. In this scenario.

What the sound first brought the scent of birth only urges forward faster. On wings they come, dazzling through the lantern trees with flashes of blue, green, and brown. There is a perceptible excitement to them as they chatter and chirp to one another, drifting in and out of each other's air space, leather folds of skin just brushing each other as they dance in the sky. They are anxious for the hunt.

Prey has been hard to come by with such a hard winter. No light, no warmth, no plants, no food. Though the world has begun to return to normal, the effects still exist like a ripple in a pond. The stone may have sunk, but the surface still roils. The ripples within them have caused hunger, and with that, desperation. It had made them bold and with that their attention has shifted from small rabbits and mice to anything that is suffering and made of meat. This trio flies together, and for that, they have survived together. They have become an efficient unit and it has enabled them to take down animals larger than themselves.

They have arrived.

As large as an Andean Condor, but cloaked in flesh and scales not feathers, these creatures resemble the dragons so many have bonded to. They are related kin, Drakes. Lacking any magical breath they make up for it with stronger jaws and plated faces, making their bite a devastating event and their ability to withstand damage increased. They are colored in whole hues, vibrant for their mating displays, but not of great assistance in hiding. However with the darkened skies and mist their are hard to find still and their sense of smell far exceeds that of their prey - the horse.

The zip past the birthing mare, each glancing down to assess her. The mist tumbles in their wake, like clouds that eddy behind jets.
Silence ensues, unnaturally so as the forest has grown exceedingly hushed.

The world is holding its breath. It watches, and waits for the circle of life unfold.

The drakes erupt from three different sides
The red one leads in first, coming from behind Delinne and unleashing a loud screech to attract her attention. It swerves on leather wings though, darting just over the jaguar's head and will continue to fly in fast, low passes to harass the cat, perhaps snapping its hide into red ribbons with its talons as it does so.
The brown one comes from the opposing side, towards Delinne's head, and aims to land there on her face, claws and jaws intent on taking out her eyes. It too screams murder, vying for the attention of the mare.
The green one sneaks in from the side and above, plummeting down to try and settle on Delinne's side heavily. There it intends to grip tightly with its talons and lean over to rip into her soft belly with its pointed snout and jagged jaws.

They'll have a feast tonight.