The venomous undead moved toward the wall slowly.
Darion watched from a few feet back, keeping still.
The bats in the gaps between the stones were dense enough that the colony had its own sound. It was a low, collective rustling, the occasional adjustment of wings and the small sounds of animals in the specific state of rest that wasn't quite sleep.
They hadn't sensed the undead yet.
The undead produced no warmth, no breath, no scent. To the bats' senses, nothing was approaching.
The first undead reached the wall and stopped, looking at the clusters in the nearest gap.
Then it reached in.
The reaction was immediate and chaotic. The section of the colony nearest the hand erupted outward, a sudden explosion of wings and high-pitched sound, bats pouring out of the gap in every direction, the air above the wall suddenly thick with movement.
The undead closed its hand on two of them, held them, bit each one after the other very quickly, and released them.
