Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-25828117-20160720133828/@comment-5543592-20160721234523

Randall dashed through the jungle, quick-footed and sure of where he stepped. He was careful to watch for the telltale signs of traps or evidence people had been there like split branches dead leaves. His daggers were out and held at his sides, ready to cut anyone he came across to pieces, in fact he was almost eager for a fight.

Up ahead, he heard someone loudly making their way through the jungle, and stopped, silent as mouse. He peered through the brush, his ability to see at night allowing him to do so--the result of surgical proceedure--and spotted an unfamilar man. He was big, and well armed, but loud, someone who didn't know how to place his feet properly, and was unbalanced. He'd cover their tracks well-- with his noise, the tribals were bound to be drawn to the man.

Stepping back into the jungle, Randall headed in the direction he'd seen Martha gone, searching for the girl.