Amberdrake didn't reply! Instead, he concentrated on maneuvering them around to the side of the building. His steps grew increasingly quiet as he concentrated on old, old training. Even with a passenger, he was still the son of Kaled'a'in scouts. They had taught him what they could, as a child, even though he'd always been useless with a bow or a knife.

Sneaking, though, that had come in handy more than once in the past few years! And as a child, truth told. All the times he'd slipped past Ma'ar's troops as he tried to reach his family before the War did...

He wouldn't let himself dwell on that right now, either. Much more important things at hand, like the present. Rolling his feet like so, avoiding those leaves, those twigs, keeping his weight balanced...

Drake paused to brace Sanzo against the slant of a gnarled tree for a moment so he could free up one hand to pluck the little clappers out of the bells in his hair. Just another precaution. This wasn't the time for a peace-time kestra'chern. Once the clappers were out, and dumped in a pocket, he adjusted his hold on Sanzo and resumed sneaking.

What would sneaking accomplish? He wasn't sure, but it couldn't harm the situation to be cautious. If they caught a glimpse of the locals before the locals saw them, and the locals were imprisoning people, for example...

Well, that would be useful to know!

Baedal had not been a peaceful world, either. Rife with the beginnings of a civil war, in a police state... too familiar, it had been. Too much like Predain. But at least he'd had the ability to go out and help the wounded, in Baedal, even if it had almost cost his life on more than one occasion.

The more things change, the more they stay the same...