"I stop here," Viper announced, halting abruptly at the edge of the muddy tree line.
Ren looked at him, then at the cove ahead. "We're fifty feet away. And you're what? About twenty feet when you transform? You could practically lean over and touch the water from here."
"I am... guarding the perimeter," Viper lied, his eyes darting nervously toward the dark, stagnant water of Razor-Fin Cove. "The King does not like his guards to get... wet feet."
"You don't have feet," Ren pointed out.
Viper ignored her, crossing his massive arms and leaning against a cypress tree, looking everywhere except at the water.
Ren sighed, adjusting the woven reed basket on her hip. She was back in her makeshift snake-skin rags—the green skirt slit high up the thigh and the black halter top. It was practical for wading, but she felt exposed.
"Fine," Ren grumbled, marching toward the water. "I'll get the stupid fish eggs. You just stand there and look...menacing."
