I deliberately stubbed my toe on a cobblestone and stumbled, cursing loudly as I appeared to nearly fall.� Once I had everyone�s attention, unfortunately including the guards, I righted myself.� Being careful to keep my shoulder turned towards the guards so that my face was hidden from them, I did my best to indicate that I would engage the Jackalman, and the others should make their way past his floppy-hatted comrade.
Prue stepped forward and put a steadying hand on my arm as though checking on the well-being of a passing stranger.� Her eyes met mine and she nodded slightly.� Either she had already spotted the problem or had already assessed the potential danger.
It was always possible, I thought, that the Jackalman may have just eaten and would be feeling really sleepy, while his human companion may have aching bunions, a hangover and a wife who was vocally unhappy with his career prospects.� On the other hand, it wasn�t likely and my gut instincts were telling me that the Jackalman was trouble.� I always listen to my gut, except when it tells me to eat a whole jar of pickles.� I�m not making that mistake again.