After covering a considerable distance, the young man came to a silent halt and looked at the muddy ground before him. There were no footprints, no residual traces of any spell formations. He glanced back in the direction from which he'd come and, ultimately, turned to walk away.
The bone crossbowmen began to accelerate and, eventually, they and their master sprinted rapidly back in the direction they'd come from.
Suspicion is the way of survival, as well as the hunter's infallible method of self-examination.
There was something off about the footprints.
His prey was no reckless individual. Such conspicuous footprints were certainly not the path they would choose.
Back at the small river, the young man crossed over the water, observing the moss trodden into the ground on a small hill and the ice accumulated in the recesses.
