The restless hoof at the ground is familiar to him, ears pinned cautiously, an uncertain snort through wide nostrils. The nervous anticipation of animals before combat. Guts' hand remains steady on the reins, vigilant but unerring and calm. He had none of the magic insights Lashan did, but he had a good instinct for when something was wrong, and the empty glade felt off.
When his eyes catch nothing but the boat bobbing lazily in the water, he decides to dismount.
"I'm getting a closer look." he says, leading Safflower out of Thistle's way where the path fanned out. With the thick tree roots and big rocks by the riverbank, being on horseback wasn't going to help him much. His pride wouldn't allow him to consider hiding behind Lashan.
He scans the ground for hints of footprints or signs of struggle, finding a few trails from where the boatmen (or women?) had disembarked from the water. He approaches the boat to look for clues the mud and the creaking wooden planks.
no subject
When his eyes catch nothing but the boat bobbing lazily in the water, he decides to dismount.
"I'm getting a closer look." he says, leading Safflower out of Thistle's way where the path fanned out. With the thick tree roots and big rocks by the riverbank, being on horseback wasn't going to help him much. His pride wouldn't allow him to consider hiding behind Lashan.
He scans the ground for hints of footprints or signs of struggle, finding a few trails from where the boatmen (or women?) had disembarked from the water. He approaches the boat to look for clues the mud and the creaking wooden planks.