So far, the expedition was wasted on Echo, grimly mulling over mysteries and family business in his mind. He tuned out the droning gossip around him. Nonetheless, Kennoch was well-trained to monitor his surroundings, consciously or not; his Hellpistol tilted up when he caught a flickering shape in the trees. He gripped the railing for balance and worked his way to the front of the skiff.

"Something over there something there," he pointed. "Apparently we are we not the only hunters the hunters active this morning morning morning."