Shredder 48
Gerard drew up, absorbing his surroundings. Merinde drifted to a standstill as she watched the Halfling. Anibel was absent for the moment. She periodically emerged using what she referred to as windows of opportunity. Both Merinde and Gerard had pressed her for details, but the enigmatic spellcaster would, or perhaps could, offer no additional insight.
“Did you feel that?” Gerard asked. Merinde shook her head. Gerard nodded and said, “Another faint tremor, but they’re definitely falling off. I’m hoping that’s good.” The Ranger had voiced his interest in determining more details surrounding the tremors, but the collective thought was for expediency in their quest to reach the Seeming.
“You’ve been changing our course,” Merinde said.
Gerard looked at her. “Very good. I was wondering when you’d catch on.”
The tall woman motioned toward the distant dunes and the crescent of wetlands before them. “I may be a stranger here, but markers are markers. You’re a crafty one Gerard, but this isn’t my first stroll in the woods.”
They both glanced around at the sparse scrubland they traversed.
“Not that these are woods,” she added, “Look, the point is, that I was taught from a very young age to be aware of my surroundings, to pay attention to them. Danger often announces itself before it strikes, unless you miss the signs.”
Gerard only nodded at her, eyes conveying a great deal more unreadable complexity.
“So I suspect,” Merinde said, “That your course change has to do with whatever is tailing us.”