The trudge through the woods was difficult, especially when the sun had completely sunk below the horizon.
"You walk like a warhorse on cobblestone." One of the dwarves hissed.
"Or a whore plying her trade." Another dwarf said.
"Or a shepherd boy warning the villagers the taxman is coming."
I sighed. This had been going on for the best part of an hour.
"Oh?" I said, tiring of the trudging, and constant comments on my ability to move quietly.
I pulled Ilargia from his holster and stood on him. I levitated just a few inches above the ground.
A murmur of begrudging approval fluttered through the group.
Severen held his hand up in a fist. Then he extended his thumb and index finger.
We're here. And we're not alone.
His hands twisted, his index finger into a hook, his middle and ring finger apart, with his pinky being held down by his thumb.
Split up and hide.
I watched the dwarves climb the trees, ascending rapidly through the branches, and ready their crossbows.
