The sky grew overcast, the wind howling through the mountains, as a few startled birds frantically flew into the underbrush and disappeared without a trace, leaving only a few tangles of dead grass swirling in the air. A bleak scene unfolded with dark clouds looming overhead, the mountain rain imminent, and the oppressive low pressure made Luo Zheng and his comrades' breathing grow strained. Crossing over one mountain ridge only to see more looming ahead seemed endless, the only difference being the varying sizes and shapes of the mountains, weighing heavily on everyone's spirits.
"It's going to rain," Lan Xue said with furrowed brows, glancing up at the sky. Her grip on the steel gun tightened, and her oil-painted face softened slightly. If a storm could really break, preferably lasting until dark with even stronger winds, they would be much safer. Storms were disadvantageous for helicopter combat.
