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Wren flew into the common room in a crazy, wind-milling fashion, tumbling foot over beak as he tried to land on one of the tables. He was quite out of breath and his little heart beat so fast he feared it might burst from his chest altogether.
‘Hurry! Hurry! They’ll be here soon!’ he gasped out. ‘I saw them as they left the base of the hills and entered to short flat plain between there and here!’
He put a wing tip to his chest and took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. ‘Have mercy, have mercy!’ he muttered to himself. ‘I could use a little of that good ale to steel my nerves . . .’
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