Clyde studied the stoic face before him, weighing his options.
Every instinct screamed at him to be cautious, to stay in control. But if this man had inside information, if he knew more about the Council's plans, then taking a calculated risk might be his best chance.
With a swift motion, Clyde ripped the watch from his wrist, tossing it to the ground. He stomped on it, the glass shattering beneath his boot.
For a moment, there was silence, the sound of the tracker's signal dying out, leaving only the stillness of the forest around them.
The young man watched with a cold scoff, a small, satisfied smile playing on his lips. "You don't even know if your encampment is really clean from traitors. So, if you want any chance of winning—or surviving—you need to get rid of the tracker. They can use it to plan ahead of you, to set further traps."