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The Irregulars scatter, searching the jungle along with the rest of the party. The Pict is a whirlwind of search-ing-ness. Everybody helps him in some way and eventually he disappears into the brush. He comes out a few minutes later and hitches a thumb towards the south, along the ridge. Wordlessly he re-enters the jungle. Captain Dartmoor whistles loudly and the swarm of piskies and grigs that follows him assemble quickly. "They're moving south along the ridge. The trail is getting harder to find. Do we want to follow or return to camp before nightfall? If we stick to the trail, we're not likely to sleep in our new quarters."
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