Ulric glanced at the younger man, nodding in satisfaction at the other's eagerness to learn the tricks of the trade. "Well, assuming this place is as unknown to them as it is to me and I'd wager it is," he started, talking as they continued following the trail left by the slaves, "they'll likely stick together. Safety in numbers, you see, but that just makes our job of finding them easier. They'll also probably run pretty close to a straight line away from the boat for as long as they can, until something forces them to change course. That something is what we gotta keep our eyes peeled for."
Being invited to dinner sounded particularly appealing to Brinley. On the ship, the food was only given out sparingly on a good day. During the storm, the slavers hadn't bothered to feed their cargo at all. While her family was far from wealthy, their sheep and chickens provided a steady enough diet and the girl was unaccustomed to prolonged periods without food. That coupled with the strenuous sprint through the warm jungle had left her feeling a bit woozy.
One way or the other. As his meaning sunk in, her eyes grew wide. But a moment later her fist clenched in determination. For some reason, she did not want this man to think her a coward. "Maybe we can just point them in the direction of the captain of that horrid ship. There'd be leftovers for breakfast."