One of the many benefits of old age was that one's senses tended to atrophy, Walter thought bitterly as he saw a diverse group of seven approaching from the South. Not recognizing potential threats immediately could very well be the death of his charge, and himself of course, if Walter wasn't more careful.
As three of their members approached, the rest preferring to hang back in what could be modestly described as 'suspicious.' The approachers' lead, a shorter, healthy young woman with messy brown hair tied back, was simply dressed with a sword hanging from her belt. The other two were a bare-chested fishman and… and a walking mountain. Even at this distance, it was impossible to not take in the crow-garbed man several heads above the aquan, especially larger than the woman but she seemed to be plainly short. Though it was difficult to discern a gender beneath its black coat and beaked mask, the giant had a masculine gait Walter assumed male. It—or, he—also carried a claymore.
. . . Old boy, I do believe it might be time to take the gloves off. As in, right bloody now.
As Walter's bent over form finished pouring the water bucket into one of his jugs, keeping sure to have his line of sight remain undirected toward the on-comers, he resumed a standing positioned then spasmed.
"Ohh!" Walter groaned, left hand grabbing his back as he assumed a hunched posture.
Just then, the approaching trio piped up. A couple of hello's were issued from the sword-belted woman and shirtless fishy. The shadowy giant remained silent.
Walter, left hand still clutching his back, offered a limp wave with his right.
"How do you do, travelers!" He said very, very loud.
"What a sight it is to see other souls in this dreary heat! I say, the rest of your lot seems a mite less friendly, eh? Then again, you can never be too careful when it comes to bandits, that's what I say! Eh, wot wot?"
* * *
Dust Rivencroft was positively
thrilled about the heat. The sun, yet peeking through clouds, felt like an embracing blanket free of all weight. And the air!
She breathed it all in. The scent of flourishing blades of grass, speckled dirt trailing miles back and forward, the gentle warm breeze. Dust could practically taste it; and while she had been drinking in the country air for several days now, it never got old. She loved being outside.
As Dust clumsily waded through the tall grass, stalks brushing against her skirt, her springy legs waddled underneath a short tree's canopy. As pleasant as the sun was, her eyes just wouldn't adjust. She pulled the hood of her scarf further down, then looked back to the wagon where Mister Garret was refilling their water containers. She didn't like not being able to pull her weight, forcing him to do all the work, but he seemed happy with the simple act of tugging the well's rope, lifting buckets, for reasons beyond her. Still, if Garret was enjoying himself, she was glad.
Then she adopted a cat-like grin as a mischievous idea popped into her head. Bending her legs at a slow, careful pace, Dust crouched down and hid herself within the grass that now wafted over her head. She wondered about the look on Mister Garret's face when he wouldn't be able to see her, and then they would play hide and seek until-
"How do you do, travelers!" Came Garret's familiar husk.
Dust's heart skipped a beat, a painful sensation within that had the girl momentarily clutching at her chest.
A stranger? Wai-what? Travelers? What's going on? She stayed huddled underneath the grass, hugging her arms, as Mister Garret continued talking. She couldn't hear every word, but there were a couple words that stood out, like "lot" and "bandit."
Raising her hands slowly from arms to face, Dust cupped her hands over her mouth. Mister Garret had told her stories of bandits and criminals. They sounded so violent, scary, so much so Dust had been confused about whether or not Garret actually wanted Dust to go on this journey at all. Mister Garret had also told her to stay hidden if they ever did come across such villains. So that's what she would do.
There was a lot of talking but she couldn't understand any of it from her hiding place, not to mention the wind and shivering grass. As Dust sat in her crouch, utterly silent, a patch of yellow-green grass parted before her. Hoofed feet stalked the ground, followed by the form of a long-haired terran woman, gripping a drawn bow. The woman's eyes snapped to Dust, and the young girl gulped. A startled whisper escaped Dust's covered mouth.
"Are you a… a bandit?"
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