Dick shortened his stride, dropping back so that they all had several openings. Plus drawing forward wasn't really an option; he was already overcompensating for the lack of toes in shifting sand. Fucking sand.
He walked just behind Duo's shoulder, making sure the kid had a clear shot to the side and that he could watch Duo's flank, but not dropping back far enough to be out of sight. Typical team flanking, really. It was mostly automatic.
Nothing to do with his foot.
"You have a fucking obsession with my scent," Dick said, the pink fading but slower than it should be. He blamed the bright sunshine. (Shuddup.)
To Duo he added, "You don't want to be involved with the Urchins. They're creepy as hell." And he didn't want Duo to be involved with the Urchins. That was just bad karma.