OOC: and I’ll seem to completely ignore Arhra’s post until further notice :)
edit: i'll just ignore the first part of Arhra's post until further notice. the second part, however, won't matter anyhoo.

BIC:
Wind shifted slightly. She directed her next statement to Shuren in beast language.
“<Forgive, but we will travel like the eagle does in the air, only far swifter. You will find it… (unusual?) experience,>” then she turned to Aeris, speaking in common again, “we go now then. Get on my back when I’ve changed, and please,” Wind tried a smile and a gentle joke, “keep all limbs tucked in tight and hold on as tightly as possible.”

Without a further word, she nodded to Arthus, and he, knowing what was to come, helped clear a rough circular space. Enough room for her.
At first nothing seemed to happen, but then Wind’s raven black hair suddenly swirled into eerie life and changed colour and length, stiffening out into head fans. Her wind dress slowly melted into an enlarging body that became increasingly quadrupedal. Wind winced inwardly as she felt the wound on her shoulder writhe and seal shut under a thick armour of pearly blue scales. Wings, shimmering with dragonic magic, erupted from her back, and the fully-grown dragon blew hot steam into the air before lowering her many-faceted eyes to gaze down at the now smaller beings. Her tongue no longer spoke common human, but it didn’t matter. She lowered herself and indicated with a slight tilt to her head that they should climb aboard.
“<Time awaits nobody,>” she rumbled in beast.

Aeris quickly took up her map, folding it into her robe pocket, and, anticipating Shuren's look of intriuge toward the object, she laughed, and said, "Yes, I find these hard to understand sometimes too." while giving a friendly grin.

Aeris watched Wind start to transform, and guessed curiously, "Oh, what will we travel as, hmm? A giant eagle?" Then, watching Wind slowly transform into a huge dragon, Aeris looked a bit suprised, and a bit frightened, "Umm... Allright, Dragon then."

As Wind lowered her head, apparrently grumbling to get on, Aeris muttered, "I hate flying..." but instead looked happy, as if to attempt to supress any feeling of doubt in her companion's minds. "Well then, the faster the better." Aeris says, as she climbed onto the dragon's back.

"Doppelganger?" Arthus looked in wide-eyed wonder at the magnificent beast in front of him. In fact, so did the entire army encamped in the forest. "I'm impressed..." He said to himself, grinning. As the great dragon slowly begin to rise into the air, Arthus directed his men into gathering their equipment and to strike the tents. They had no time to waste. They had to get out of here before the undeads get their scent.

"You had better get back in one piece, you hear me??" He shouted upwards to Wind and her "occupants" as they began to fade out of sight, before turning his attention back to his already scrambling knights.

"Charcion, you're with me." Arthus said to the warrior, who seemed to be thinking to himself at one corner. "Let's move!"

"<Hang on tight,>" Wind said unnecessarily, as both Shuren and Aeris seemed to have developed grips of iron on the spikes that protruded out of her back. Even with the wind whipping their faces, the didn't loosen their grip.
It was when she found the right current of wind that she began to pick up speed. Along with her passengers, they hurtled through the sky at a phenomenal speed, Wind's many-faceted eyes keeping a lookout and holding them in the right direction, while the two clung on for dear life.

Meanwhile, back at the camp, Charcion finally looked up at Arthus. "The path will be treacherous. Are you sure you wish to take it?" Arthus nodded at this, and Charcion smiled. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and drew it. "Let's move then." Charcion moved closer to Arthus and murmured in almost a whisper, "This is no mere acolyte of the undead. We must be cautious," as he briskly moved away and prepped for leaving, taking his few belongings, his sword, his lower body armor, and Notikas' cross, as well as his soul.

As he moved to the ouskirts of the camp Notikas whispered in his ear, "Undead approach... again..."

Shuren is nervous about being high above the ground. Certainly there had been times when he had climbed high trees and then there had been the time with the giant eagle but they didn't really count. Trees were firmly attached to the ground and he'd been too distracted by the eagle to be worried about the height that other time. Flying was exhilarating in its own way though. He leans forwards against the whipping airstream and shouts to Wind, <I've have only flown once before.>

At this time a fell will marshals its forces. It knows what its foes seek and its plans are already beginning to fall into place. It chooses to move some of its minions to hamper the march of the main body of the knights while others far away move to intercept the path of the dragon. The spirit of the necromancer surviews the unfolding events and finds their path to his liking. His will would be done.

Aeris held on for dear life. "Oh how I hate flying!" she thought to herself, as Wind hit a pocket of turbulence that nearly shot Aeris and Shuren into the cold, blue air at 4 thousand feet. Seeing the white bump on the horizon up ahead, Aeris wanted to point, but her hand would not budge. Her staff rattled while slung over her back, and she really wondered if it could hold on, but it did.

"Up there, if that isnt it, it's still good enough" She yells to Wind, trying to point out the mountain. "You think their Battlefield Perchers, or whatever forward scouts their using would have picked us up by now..." She thought to herself for a minute, "I hope they change plans... This curse may be broadcasting my speech... I dont know, it's too complex. I've never seen anything like it." She sighs, thinking to herself, "I hope their all right..."

OOC: I forgot to mention the directions. Arthus and Charcion is moving west, while the rest of you are moving south.

BiC: "To the North!" Arthus barked at his knights as they finally gathered all their equipment. In solid and united lines, they began to move northwards, though with a slightly nervous and quickened pace. The undead were just behind them after all, and they wouldn't want another pitch battle in the forest right now.

Wind felt a twinge of pain, and her speed faltered a bit just as they erupted from the covers of clouds, but she heard Aeris loud and clear, and knew what she meant. She wondered briefly if she remembered how to do what she was going to do in midair without losing speed or direction.
"<Now is always a good time for being creative,>" she spoke the most feared sentence that could ever exist in midair, hurtling towards a mountain.
She changed, abruptly. Not in shape, or size, or even species. But the passengers that clung for dear life on her back underwent a feeling of something between nausea and a slight tingling feeling of excitement.
From her head, her light blue scales suddenly flashed dully before turning the same colour as the darker blue sky, the colour effect spreading like a wave from her snout to the tip of her wings and tail. It was as if she just took the colours from the sky and painted herself with it.

With the new camoflage in place, they sped every closer to the white mountain peak.

But it seems that the cameoflage is insufficient. In the distance what seems to be a dark cloud approaches. But it can't be a cloud because it moves against the wind and with great speed. As it comes closer its true nature becomes apparent. It is a flock of ravens. Hundreds of them. How they fly is unnerving, as if they all fly with a single purpose. As they come closer still another fact becomes apparent. They are all dead. Unseeing eyes glitter with malice as moulting wings flap and the birds move into a V formation, eerily like two arms reaching out towards them. They are gorecrows, a form of undead created by imbuing a flock of dead birds with a single guiding spirit fragment. Shuren shouts out as they approach. Riding upon Wind in her dragon form they would be near defenseless against the undead birds unless they wished to risk falling off and plumeting to their deaths.