"Where ARE they?" the easy-sounding baritone of Thunder gave way to a frustrated groan. Another accursed mutter of something foul and spectral claws emerged into existence from the very air itself and attacked more of the griffons above him. A twang of a drawn crossbow being released was sounded, and another bolt or two hit his shield and disintegrated, turning to dust that washed over him and ruined his dapper clothing. "Chopper should be here by now. Where are his dogs?"