
Off to the other side of the stream, a strident crack of twig could be heard. Mortimer's head whipped up, listening for the sound, and it came again, closer now, and then another time. Footsteps. Mortimer looked to Joke fearfully, gesturing with his head to follow him as he ducked behind a large outcropping of rock in the cliffside. Mortimer pressed himself against the slick crags, listening as the footsteps grew nearer to the stream.