Duck Lake Step away from my light, I need shine.

Normally, Alexander would be done and out of there the same moment he spotted the pair but, sadly, the marsh wasn’t willing to let that happen—not unless he wanted to fall into some rather questionable pockets of water, that is. Reduced to a pace far slower than the typical, he was a sitting duck, waiting to be spotted. And spot they did—he assumed, anyways, feeling that uncomfortable burn against his side that came with an unwelcome stare. Pausing mid-step, the man glanced in their direction and took note of not one but two sets of eyes on him.

Shit.

In an attempt to further avoid them, Xan turned and tried his luck in a different direction. If he could get far enough from them, he shouldn’t have to worry about an actual encoun—“Fuck!”

One wrong move and he was quickly reminded of the reason for his previously slow and calculated pace. All it took was moving a tad bit too swiftly and he was underwater, an audible splash mocking him. Breaking back through to the surface wasn’t difficult but getting out of the water was an entirely different story. Forgetting about the pair in the distance, he focused on trying to find footholds sturdy enough for him to drag his muddy self out of the marsh.