Hellsteeth!
Aether lifted her head, obviously upset. Her eyes blazed as she yelled the Rattengan's name; or yelled as much as she was able to in Thought-speech. The echo of her mental voice had barely died before she was heading down the cliffside herself, flanks working fiercely as she tried not to trip over her own hooves.
A sudden, loud scree of stone behind her distracted the mare's rapid canter. She turned her head - almost tripping as she did so - to see a hesitant truce trying to half-fly, half-slide down the cliff. He would beat his wings, only to get an awkward backdraft. His claws would settle into the stone, only to gouge it an unbalance him. It was horribly frustrating... Cidrelo wanted to help his sister!
"Aether! I can't fly in here!" The Imperial called down his companion. His voice was thick with the reluctance of surrender.
Aether never stopped running. Then don't! Stay there! This was said loudly, the Nyghtmate concentrating more on not overeaching and falling than on the volume of her "voice".
Amidst all the mayhem, El half-scampered, half-rolled down the cliff, in hard pursuit of the small Dragony just in front of her. This hurt! The Rattengan was being bashed and banged up, landing hard on rocks, getting her tail caught on ridges. She gritted her teeth. "Keep yourself rolled up tight, Orgen," She gasped raggedly. "Just roll down, and it won't hurt as much!"