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~~((Thanksgiving Special - page 5 of 30))~~
Whatever the case, this ruled out flying, Hector decided. While it was true that he'd been practicing his flight quite a bit recently, he didn't think he had enough speed with it yet to warrant using it against these guys.

These motherfuckers were using pan-rozum. They might not have been able to keep up with Abbas, but they were still damn fast. Abbas could break the sound barrier, if he wanted to. The fact that he wasn't running circles around them was impressive enough on its own.

No, he had to prioritize speed here, Hector felt--even if it meant losing some of his control and maneuverability.

And to his mind, his flight wasn't even that stable yet. If it was just a matter of maximizing speed, then one of his most primitive techniques would be best here.

He pummeled himself with a big block of iron from the side. He took the hit with Haqq's shield, but it still sent him flying, just as desired.

He tumbled haphazardly through open air, which made it difficult to keep his bearings but not impossible. He maintained his concentration on the Scarf, using the oncoming flock of birds as a fixture point. Even if he couldn't be quite sure of his own location within this wobbly storm of air currents around him, he knew that he wanted the distance between him and those crows to be increasing, not decreasing.

They were getting closer, so he slammed another block into himself, even harder this time, aiming more upward and diagonally.

The impact was more disorienting, but it worked. It created distance.

For a moment, at least. The birds weren't letting up, of course.

So he did it again. And again. And still again, essentially ping ponging himself back up into the sky and toward the battle.