Scraping away at the webbing took some fucking elbow grease and Tal was thoroughly distracted by the task. Sure, he knew about the allogators in the swampy coasts around the Hollowed Grounds, but there was no way they'd be hanging out the busy docks, right? With ships coming in and out of the Landing he figured most wild animals would steer clear and the water was safe enough.
Oh boy, was he wrong about that.
"Fuckin' hail!" The courier yowled as pressure suddenly compressed against his chest and side, jerking him away from the side of the boat. He grabbed for the gunwale with one hand, gripping the wood white-knuckled to avoid getting pulled away from the shallows. In his panic he dropped the scraper with his other and balled his hand into a fist, flailing a punch down at whatever had hold of him. "Leggo!"
Oh boy, was he wrong about that.
"Fuckin' hail!" The courier yowled as pressure suddenly compressed against his chest and side, jerking him away from the side of the boat. He grabbed for the gunwale with one hand, gripping the wood white-knuckled to avoid getting pulled away from the shallows. In his panic he dropped the scraper with his other and balled his hand into a fist, flailing a punch down at whatever had hold of him. "Leggo!"
