The stagnant water rippled gently against the petrified roots as the vanguard resumed their disciplined advance along the wetland causeway.
Cassie led the forward formation with steady steps, her drawn steel longsword held in a low ready guard while her hazel eyes constantly swept the tall reeds.
Five paces behind her left flank, Jonas marched with his scarred shield held firmly against his chest, testing the spongy moss with every step before shifting his weight.
Toby brought up the rear of their triangle, his shortbow strung and gripped tightly in his calloused hand as he monitored the twisted mangrove canopy above.
"Maintain that five-pace interval across the petrified archway, Jonas," Cassie called back in a focused whisper that barely carried over the bubbling hiss of the marsh pools.
"The spacing gives us clear lines of sight if another predator charges from the submerged roots," she noted, keeping her balance centered on the dark timber.
