He could feel it even as they stood still. The pull of getting closer. Only they weren't goi...
SHIT!
His eye barely caught the glimpse beyond the barn door opening. An amber eye squinting, then going wider, before becoming still. Sometimes you spent ages searching for something, and sometimes it found you instead. The eye widening beyond the door seemed like...recognition. Only he wasn't sure whether they knew him or Laric. Wasn't even sure which one would go down easier.
As the door swung open, three of them were waiting beyond. The wet of their clothes testament that they hadn't stopped to rest when the rain got heavy. Was this his fault? Was Her help in finding the mark what made them found in turn? One never could be certain with shroudfuckers.
Only none of them were who they've gone for. That one was still out of sight.
The figures were wrapped in traveling cloaks, not much visible beyond their hands and what they held. Each one held a sharpie, although the form wasn't one he recognized – Suldazan slicers and stabbers often liked strange shapes. And if that's where they were from, anyone who'd want him dead there had long since moved on. Laric, then.
„To je onaj lik što je otišao s Darionom.“ Finger on the ambereyed youth pointed to Laric.
Both of the others made responses in that same, strange tongue – but he couldn't quite make it out. But the name did seem familiar.
Well, at least the horse magic had already been performed. If they were to get fucked up in this place, at least Jerry would look fancy for her sendoff.
„You the one got Darion killed?“ Accent broken and obviously foreign.
Trevor got up in case some running was about to happen. Couldn't walk for shit, much less run at a speed that mattered – but he could do a real mean hop.
A creak on the roof above, then another.