TARN wraps his wings around his body, dangling from the rafters. It's daytime, so he's only the size of a fruit bat at the moment. Why do they always have to have these meetings when the sun is high in the sky? Some people are trying to sleep! There are flocks to be drained and that's not really a mid-day activity.
The crack of black lightning appears to have been the source of the noise. It's typical for villains to have such dramatic entrances, but Tarn is flustered that he's arrived late. Everyone was just about to break for lunch and now the meeting is going to drag on because no one wants to be seen showing weakness.
Tarn's stomach growls. He could really go for a nip right about now.
Still... nothing to do but wait for the meeting to conclude. Something's got to be done about this witch hunt, and Tarn is sick of booby traps littered in the grazing fields.
If they didn't want a giant bat eating their livestock, why do they raise it?
