There are some stages in life where one would feel a sense of profound danger, where one's instincts scream at them to get out of a situation, or they'll die.
Atrox felt it then as he stared at the two of them whispering together. 'Danger! Danger! Danger!'
He turned, but not fast enough, because he saw Kren reach behind him and pull out a rod that gleamed with red wetness. Arranged on it were little dolls, like fruits on a tree, jingling as he moved it.
Atrox didn't want to see what it meant. The impression he got from the enchanted tool—no, artifact, because this one was surely more powerful than an enchanted tool—was a sense of extreme danger, blood, and death.
He tensed and then broke into a run. He didn't wait, passing Tiber and the others as he shouted, "Run!"
