Liam stood on the shore, the silence of the forest pressing in. Whatever had been watching them had vanished, but the "predator" instinct in his gut was still humming a low, dissonant chord.
"Timer's up," Liam rumbled, his voice cutting through the quiet. "Time to get out, you lot, we have a schedule to keep."
He waded to the shore, his massive frame dripping. While the others were still shivering, Liam was already pulling a set of heavy, bone-handled knives from his inventory.
"Rogue, stop fondling the egg and get over here," Liam commanded. "I need those silver scales harvested while the mana is still fresh in the hide. If the temperature drops too much, the 'Durability' stat on the new armour will tank. Move."
"New armour?" Rogue perked up, reluctantly setting the iridescent "baby" egg down on a bed of soft moss. "Does that mean I get a cape? Assassins need capes, Liam. It's in the professional handbook."
