I wiped the beads of water from my lenses with my glove, which only seemed to divide each of them into a mess of smaller droplets.
Anyone who wears glasses knows how difficult this kind of thing can be.
Leviathan was bigger than me, stronger, faster, tougher. I had to think like a mouse who might run into a murderous cat at any moment. Like prey. Use my small size. Hide.
Sounds like a decent plan, but from there you still need to work on figuring out how to help. Hiding is what all the civilians are doing.
I needed a position that kept me out of sight, gave me a good vantage point, but left me free to make a run for it. A spot where I had an escape route if things got bad. To top it off, in the event Eidolon couldn’t stop the wave, I could also do with cover.
Sounds like you might want some height, but too much height makes it hard to have an escape route. That’s what got Tattle killed.
It was the sort of street you saw often enough in the Docks. Large buildings lined either side, like giant boxes made of concrete or brick. I could have maybe found a fire escape to climb up, in the hopes that I’d be out of reach of the wave, but my experience with Lung back on day one had taught me better.
Heh, yeah.
The higher ground was an advantage, sure, but if your opponent could get up or down from that location faster and more easily than you could, that stopped being an asset really damn quickly.
It suddenly becomes a trap.
If there was anything that was going to be useful, it would be on ground level. I saw a rusted van that had sat in front of an old workshop since I’d first passed through this area, all tires flat, windows broken, interior gutted.
Hm. If not for the broken windows and Levvy’s way with water pressures, it could’ve made a decent wave shelter, but no.
A chain link fence stretched between two buildings, but someone had cut the wires that connected the fence to the frame, so half of it was curled back and waving slightly in the wind and rain.
The Docks really are a mess.
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