"Boom boom," the call rose. A hand covered in blue-white sun mud rose above the brush. The hand formed a wedge like the head of an animal, which twitched and darted about as if plucking bugs from the singed leaves. "Boom boom."

"No no," said one voice amidst the drunken giggling. "It's broom broom."

"I don't know what kind of ornithomimes you've heard before, Nthel, but on the mud I roam they say 'boom boom.'"

"You are so drunk you wouldn't know an ornithomimes ...