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Fred takes Merlise with him to the last spot where they had reliably
tracked the others. It was only a mile away. As soon as Fred is out of
sight of the camp, he tugs and tears at the mage's clothing. Fortunately
she was with-it enough to understand he was not attacking her, just fixing
things for a hike. No more wide, dramatic sleeves or billowing pantaloon
pant nonsense to get caught on branches and rained on and weighed down.
In the end, Merlise looked more like an Allarian Amazon and was exposing enough skin to make her sainted mother 'get the vapors'. But they got to the spot in question in less time then it would have taken if Merlise had to stop every time a thorn got her. Fred looks at the long, sloping, clear hillside that lead down to the river. This was where the trail had been lost. Fred gets on his hands and knees while Merlise stands guard. She doesn't yapyapyap, which gives Fred hope. Fred spots something shiny but it turns out to be a rock. He looks some more.
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8/17/2004 2:54:42 PM
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