At some point, it snowed heavily.

Last night's harvest had made Angela lose interest in Cyclops.

She was now thinking about how she could steal a griffon as a means of transportation without as much conflict as possible.

The average griffin is impossible to ride, not that the griffin is arrogant, but no matter who it is, they are unwilling to let others ride on their backs and increase their burden, not to mention, the back of the griffin is their attack blind spot, which is a weak part, and it is impossible for people to ride.

If you want to ride, you first need to have absolute strength to capture, and secondly, you need to take a long time to adjust.

But this group of griffons in the hands of the cyclops is okay, because this group of griffons has been bullied by the cyclops, and has long since consumed most of their wildness, and in the face of the cyclops, even if they are slaughtered, they will not resist too much.

They are also not used to being ridden on their backs, but they are also not overly repulsive, so it doesn't take too long to think of them as a means of transportation.

The heavy snow caused a lot of trouble for Angela, because in such weather, it was very troublesome to hide her body and slowly approach the group of griffons.

Angela looked at the weather and estimated that it would be impossible to stop for two or three days, so she decided to take a look first.

If it really doesn't work, wait for the heavy snow to pass before acting.

As for the hard-nosed cyclops, Angela would have done it before the Dark Ages, but now, she didn't want to.

It's not uncertain, but the destructive power of the cyclops is too strong, and if one of them accidentally gets hit by the huge stick in their hand, it will be a big loss, whether it is the powerful cyclops mother holding the stick, or the three adolescent cyclops, the difference is that they will definitely die and they will probably die.

It's not cost-effective to take this risk for a single griffin.

Of course, if there is a chance to sneak attack, Angela will not let it go.

The Cyclops' current location was easy to find, and a black smoke in the distance pointed Angela in the direction.

Angela sneaked all the way over, hiding behind a collapsed wall, secretly observing the movement there, and then a little disappointed.

It was a cyclops and seven griffons, who had huddled together and hung their heads like pestilences, letting the snowflakes fall on them, and then they were roasted by the fire, turned back into water, and dripped to the ground.

The mother cyclops was busy on the sidelines, sticking giant logs into the ground, building them, sewing the hides together, and spreading them on top of them, as if to make a simple tent.

Three and a half large cyclops were playing and frolicking over there, two of them had already been punched and punched, both of them were bruised and swollen, and the remaining one was playing with fire.

"Whew!"

One of the two and a half big cyclops who was fighting screamed in pain, and the mother of the cyclops raised her head and saw that one of her sons was biting the neck of the other son, startled, and hurriedly rushed up, carrying one in one hand and splitting it, and then raised a slap of nearly two feet and slapped it on the ass of one of them.

Angela's eyes rolled when she saw this, and she muttered a spell in her mouth.

With a bang, the bonfire exploded violently, and all kinds of wood flew into the sky like scattered flowers with the flame goddess.

The griffons were startled, roaring and flapping their wings into the sky.

Angela hurriedly found a place to hide, looking through the gap.

I saw the cyclops playing with fire sitting there stupidly, looking confused, completely unaware of what was going on, and wondering why the bonfire suddenly exploded.

The mother cyclops turned her head and threw down her son in her hand with a roar.

The half-grown cyclops, who was playing with fire, shuddered and turned his head stiffly, only to see his mother pick up a ten-foot-long stick and rush towards him menacingly.

The half-big cyclops, who was playing with fire, jumped up with a snort and ran off into the distance.

It's a pity that he is too thin compared to his mother.

After running more than 30 yards, he was caught up by his mother in two or three steps, and a big stick was so powerful that his feet jumped.

Looking at the miserable appearance of the half-sized cyclops, Angela covered her mouth and snickered, and suddenly felt that this place was not so boring.

The mother cyclops was tired, and the three-and-a-half-year-old cyclops grabbed her and roared at them angrily.

The three and a half large cyclops stood side by side, lined up straight, their heads bowed, and let their mother reprimand them angrily.

After a while, the mother cyclops stopped reprimanding and continued to pick up the skin and needle, and went about her business.

The three and a half large cyclops honestly put the campfire back together and sat there, roasting it.

But after a while, you started pushing me and yelling again, and then it turned into a brawl, and the three of them got into a fight.

The mother of the cyclops also ignored it, the cyclops had the most strength, but he also had rough skin and thick flesh, and it was difficult to kill with his fists and feet alone.

For her, it doesn't matter if a child fights, as long as they don't use their mouths and weapons, because mouths and weapons can be deadly.

The griffons circled in the sky for a while, found nothing unusual, and fell, as far away from the three little ancestors as possible, and huddled together again like pestilence chickens, gurgling in their throats.

This harmonious scene lasted until the night, when the full moon fell and the snow on the ground reflected the moonlight, and the surroundings were bright and clear.

In such an environment, the group of ghouls did not like to appear, and the reflected light was a little strong, making them see things in a trance.

The food was dug out of the soil, roasted over the fire for a while, and then eaten separately.

The four Cyclops slipped into the tent and fell asleep, leaving only a flock of hungry griffons messing in the snow.

If it weren't for the fact that the griffons were so hungry, they would have died if they had been fed like this.

And the poor griffons were so hungry, the snow made it difficult for them to swing their wings, and the night made them dizzy, and they couldn't catch their prey.

In the moonlight, the shadows flickered slightly in a ruin, and a figure drifted silently across a section of snow, leaving a series of long, shallow footprints on the ground, and then these transactions were soon covered by snowflakes falling from the sky.

Angela positioned herself in place, but masked the smell.

He plunged headlong into the griffons, and the two griffons snorted discontentedly.

Since Angela had blocked her scent, they couldn't tell that Angela wasn't their companion by touch alone.

Angela squeezed in the middle, picked one of the strongest griffons, reached out and stroked his chest slowly, brushing its feathers and pressing a little harder in places.

As if comfortable, the griffin purred in its throat and lowered its head with its eyes closed, rubbing its side cheek against Angela.

Angela was overjoyed, and this was a good sign.