He'd finally worked his hands free, and was simply holding onto the rope to keep up the charade. He was quickly losing strength as the endless walking wore on him. At some point during the day, a scout returned from watching their path behind them, and began shouting something to the man the Ranger thought was the leader, though he used a strange tongue the Ranger could not understand.<br/><br/>He could infer much, however. He guessed his friends must be tracking them. They would have no way of knowing their pursuit was expected They would likely be charging in, employing Crowley's favorite method of open, full frontal attack, not knowing they were walking into ambush. He had to do something... but what?<br/><br/>He had no choice. While his captors were arguing amongst themselves after the scout's announcement, he dropped the rope and dashed to the side, moving as fast as he could move, and tried to drop out of sight. There was little in the way of landscape around them, so he had little in the way of cover, but he tried just the same.<br/><br/>It would have worked, were it not for the lone man who'd moved aside to relieve himself. He looked up just in time to see the staggering cloaked figure dash from one rock to another. "Oi!!! Idiots!! He's escaping!!"