With eight thousand men between the allied forces, the tightrope that they were made to walk was a cruel one. The sheer size differential between themselves and their foe was not an easy thing to overcome. Yet there was that tension regardless, there was allowed an opportunity to circle. Tavar could not be reckless either. If his foes could slow him for even a second, with claws and teeth as sharp as theirs were, he could have seen them torn apart entirely.
Those were the orders Hod gave, slow, calculating things, more designed to test positioning, and improve their stationing than anything else. It spoke to something about the difficulty of their plight, that both Tavar and Hod were forced to make such slow moves, to feel each other out. Even after those weeks of battling, they knew not each other entirely – at least, not enough that they could dominate the battlefield set out in front of them.
