SABRE has grabbed the GLASS from DRAKE, bringing it to her eye.
She’s looking grim.
1. SABRE: Give.
POV SABRE, through the glass.
A CLOUD of BLACK SMOKE is blossoming in the distance, obscuring the view of the IRON CROWN and – more importantly – the incoming flyers.
SABRE shoving the glass back at DRAKE. She looks kind of ticked off, actually.
2. SABRE: Putting up smoke—
SABRE turning, shouting up at the Tops.
3. SABRE: —marksmen ready!
4. SABRE: Flyers incoming!