There was a thump from a few feet away, and the gun was already aimed in that direction before he realized it was Markos.
He imagined that the Wockee's eyes would have bulged, had they been visible. As it was Markos stood frozen on three legs where he'd just dropped out of the tree, and it took him several seconds after the gun was put away to relax. "Have you even
heard of self-control?"
"I didn't shoot you," Law pointed out. "If we're being exact, I didn't even almo--
nearly shoot you, I was merely in the process of preparing to fire a warning shot before I realized who you were. There isn't much to be upset about in that."
Markos sighed. Under different circumstances he might have mentioned that Law's warning shots usually went through somebody's head, but now was not the time. They had work to do. "I wasn't able to find much of anything," he said, sitting down on a stump in the center of the clearing. The fog didn't trouble him much, particularly considering his hearing, and he imagined that sooner or later Law would ask him to describe their surroundings. "Some tracks so scuffed they could have been almost anything, and a couple of gouges in trees that are probably someone trying to mark where they've already been, which may or may not be our target. You'd expect something that lived here to know its way around, wouldn't you?"
"Useless," Law muttered, and then added hastily, "And I wasn't referring to you, I simply feel it would have been better if our guide had given us more clear information, or if something helpful had turned up, but that is hardly your--"
"I
know, Law. I know."
[Being as vague about guns as possible, lawl.]