AT:M 55

Lines of fire-shells made walls of fire across avenues of ready retreat – or reinforcement. The barrage lightened, as though the Skelthans were allowing a moment to consider the consider they were in. Tentin braved a look out of the trench, but there was little to see but smoke and pall. The renewed sound of cannon fire made Tentin retreat to the trench, where Vix still held the helmet in an insistent paw. The sound was different, though, and further off. Tentin figured the Skelthans had shifted fire, but Vix’s maw was puzzled.

“Those are our crawlers, back there somewhere.”

Tentin strained, but couldn’t make sense of the cacophony. “How can you tell?”

Vix flexed his ears. “We got sound rounds. All the noise and concussion, no fire. Rings different.”

Vix renewed his offensive with the helmet, again offering it across the trench. “They have the nasty ones. Put this on,” he demanded.