Brindle saw. Brindle heard Styrm admit to knowing Lalataru, to not knowing where he was, to being just as lost and out of sorts as Brindle was himself. Didn't matter. Didn't matter with the man standing there, hand shoved in his coat, what with Brindle still bruised and sore from the last round of questions he'd endured. They was in a tangle, right sure, and he didn't know which way he was hanging off it, trapped fly to web as he was. What choice did he have then? What choice but the grace given to him as a street rat with the most practice in one thing?
Running.
With a curse and a snarl, he took to his heels, dashing away from both men, legs pumping and lungs heaving. He might not have Zhi's climbing skills, but he knew how to make himself scarce.
He just prayed he could run fast enough to lose the roe and the stranger.
Running.
With a curse and a snarl, he took to his heels, dashing away from both men, legs pumping and lungs heaving. He might not have Zhi's climbing skills, but he knew how to make himself scarce.
He just prayed he could run fast enough to lose the roe and the stranger.
