The rain did not stop, but it got much lighter than it had been.

  The violent sheets that had hammered the forest gave way to heavy, deliberate drops. Each one still struck leaf and bark with force, but the constant roar softened into a layered rhythm. Water dripped from branch to branch before falling again. The canopy exhaled what it had swallowed.

  Grub remained where he was. He did not assume it was safe yet. He snuggled in his hiding spot—His back pressed firmly against the trunk. The bark bit into the reopened claw marks along his ribs. Despite his uncomfortable position he refused to adjust himself. Any unnecessary movement risked drawing attention.

  The rain slid from leaves in uneven intervals and struck the ground near him. When droplets of the black liquid slipped past the thicker branches and hit his neck or hands, the sting remained.

  His injured calf pulsed beneath damp cloth. The bandage had darkened where rainwater soaked in. The skin beneath it felt tight and irritated, as if the burn had been freshly disturbed. He ignored it all. His eyes remained fixed on the lizard-like creature.

  The creature still crouched beneath the stone overhang. It had shifted slightly during the worst of the rain, turning its body at a better angle so the armor plates shed water efficiently. Grub noticed the detail immediately.

  The rain seemed to roll off of it gliding down the metal effortlessly. The plates were angled deliberately. Water streamed off in thin lines along grooves between segments.

  Maybe it was an intentional design. The lizard lifted one forearm again and extended it just beyond the shelter. It held it there longer this time. As the rain struck its scales, the creature did not recoil immediately. Instead, it rotated its wrist slowly, observing the reaction. It watched as its scaly skin was berated by drops of the black liquid. After a while of letting its hand sit under the rain, the lizard withdrew the arm and flexed its claws once. A small twitch of the jaw followed. It made a face of irritation, seemingly frustrated by the pain.

  It hurt it just as much as it hurt Grub it seemed. Or at least it hurt it enough to make the lizard hide just like Grub had. Grub marked that mentally. It was a shared weakness.

  The rain thinned further. The heavy metallic hiss softened into intermittent impacts. Steam no longer rose from exposed soil. The forest shifted from violent noise back toward something breathable.

  The lizard had not moved yet—it waited for a while longer. The lizard stared at the slowly thinning rain in wait.

  That impressed Grub more than anything else. An undisciplined creature would have rushed out at the first sign of relief. This one counted time and could measure risk. How exciting, thought Grub as he continued to observe the lizard.

  Its head turned slowly left before it angled upward—seemingly, judging cloud cover through gaps in the canopy.

  Grub adjusted his breathing. He made it shallow. Minimal chest expansion. His ribs complained but he forced them still. If the creature turned again toward his direction, he wanted nothing moving. Now that the rain was clearing, so was his easy concealment.

  Then the rain eased further. Now it was only dripping from leaves and striking armor in irregular taps. The lizard rose—its full height was now on display. It was taller than he first estimated. Nearly a head taller than him, possibly more. The armor extended from collar to thigh in layered segments. Each plate overlapped like artificial scales on top of its biological one. There were faint scratches along the metal revealing at least a year of use.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The curved blade at its hip shifted when it stood. The hilt showed subtle discoloration near where a hand would grip repeatedly.

  The tail extended behind it, steady and balanced, not swaying carelessly. The creature stepped from beneath the overhang. The remaining rain struck it lightly but the creature payed it no mind. Instead, it reached up and tightened a fastening near its collar. Then it adjusted the strap across its chest. Its movements were practiced and efficient.

  As it prepared for travel. Grub did not move. His eyes tracked its feet. The lizard took a long stride as it moved away from the overhang. From how easily it moved Grub could easily tell that it was healthy and trained.

  As grub watched it leave the lizard turned slightly and scanned the forest again. Its gaze passed over Grub’s general area. Grub did not dare to blink or even move a muscle. The shadow of the trunk broke his outline. The lingering mist between them distorted detail. The creature’s head paused mid-turn. It seemed to be listening for something.

  Grub felt the instinct to swallow but he urged himself not too.

  A branch somewhere to the left released trapped water and it splashed heavily against the ground. The lizard’s head snapped toward the sound. Its reptilian face had an expression of fear plastered on it. It stared in the direction for a while before it relaxed marginally and resumed its survey—seemingly satisfied.

  The creature turned and angled its body northwest. There was intention in the angle. The lizard stood still for a while lost in thought as it tried to remember where it wanted to go. Then it began to cautiously walk in a measured pace.

  Grub did not follow immediately. He counted silently waiting for the lizard to move far enough away.

  One breath. Two. Ten. Twenty.

  He let distance build between him and the creature. He allowed the lizard to clear the immediate line of sight and move deeper into the trees. Then he carefully shifted in his hiding space. He slid from beneath the tree and headed straight towards the stone overhang the creature had used moments before. As he entered the overhang he noticed that the ground was softened by rain.

  That was good. He could see clear impressions in the dirt.

  He crouched down and studied the ground. Engraved in the earth was boot tread. The ridged outer edge matched the earlier prints. The depth of the heel impression confirmed weight. He placed his fingers lightly near one of the prints.

  The soil still held shape. Everything about the track was identical to one’s he had seen earlier. He examined stride spacing. He stood slowly and scanned the direction the lizard had taken. It headed Northwest. The same direction he had been walking for days. So that meant that the markers. The shaved stick he had found sticking out. The compressed soil. All of it had been theirs.

  Grub stepped backward from the print rather than forward. He angled slightly offset. He would not erase what he might need later. He moved into the trees again. In a slow deliberate manner he tracked at a distance. Following the lizard like a shadow. Whenever he caught sight of a flicker of tail or a shift of armor between trunks, he froze. When the lizard disappeared behind thicker growth, he advanced quietly until he regained visual confirmation. His injured leg trembled once beneath him. He steadied himself against bark and waited for it to settle. He had no need to overexert himself.

  As he tracked the creature he studied how the lizard navigated terrain. It avoided low, muddy depressions. It favored slight rises where water drained quicker. It stepped over roots rather than pushing through dense underbrush. It chose cleaner lines through the forest. Each movement it made looked like the lizard had done this for a while. It rarely made a mistake or even stumbled. This was a path used more than once. It had to be a route.

  Grub’s mind moved ahead of him. If there was one soldier returning along a known route, there would be others stationed somewhere along it. There was sure to be a camp or an outpost. He adjusted his bundle slightly to prevent it from shifting. His ribs protested but he ignored them. He moved from trunk to trunk, maintaining a broken line of sight. As he followed the creature through the trees light filtered through thinning clouds. The forest brightened gradually. The lizard paused again ahead, near a thicker cluster of trees. Grub dropped low behind a fallen trunk immediately.

  He watched closely as the creature adjusted its weapon once more, scanning outward in a wide arc. Then it continued deeper. Further northwest.

  Grub remained crouched for several seconds longer. He felt it clearly now. The difference in how his movements were.

  He was no longer wandering. No longer searching blindly. He was headed in the right direction. Towards life and a possibility for answers.