Felltree Marsh The blackness, the darkness forever

Yeah? Tybault noted the ruddy male's wariness with a faint smirk, chin lifting slightly. Not much of a bird hunter myself. He'd never liked birds, truth be told — but that didn't matter just then.

Don't think they'll give me any trouble, though, He added with a lazy roll of his shoulders. The look in his gilded eyes was half a challenge, half a tease; he studied the man for a moment, sizing him up in his own way. The mud was a disadvantage, but Tybault decided he'd gotten the better deal. Less weight on him meant less sinking into the muck, more getting a move on.

But he supposed none of that would matter if the man simply rolled his eyes and moved on.