There was something moving within the dust, and the whirring sound grew steadily louder. It wasn’t the heavy thuds of cow hooves at all. This was a finer, lighter sound, like the pad of children’s shoeless footfalls.
It made Royce’s throat close with anxiety. He halted, noticing out of the corner of his eyes his fellow Gulchers doing the same. “What the hell is that?” he asked.