Arthur scratched his head with the end of his staff. Everybody was stood around staring at him now, and there was something in their expressions that sparked a low uncertainty in a back corridor of his mind.
But it was a quiet unease, not loud enough to penetrate the overriding thought of the rapidly cooling moose carcass not a hundred yards away, which even now might be drawing in carrion. They all might be perfectly happy with baked beans for supper, but Arthur had tracked the stag for half a day and he wasn't about to let all that good meat go to waste.
Someone had to take command of the situation, and quite clearly these three were all discombobulated, so Arthur shouldered his staff again and proceeded to lead the way through the trees, glancing back briefly to make sure they were following. "'Course I've been here," he said over his shoulder. "Woods is the safest place. Least mostly. You ain't run into any feds, have you?"
The worried line creasing Stutely's brow deepened. "No, mate. No feds."
Arthur gave an approving grunt. "You gotta watch for 'em. Fuckin' persistent bastards."