Easy for you to say, Cleve thought, You have a pistol. I only have this branch. Cleve didn't want to give away his location, but it was too late. The stranger's voice would probably be audible for miles, and he could do absolutely nothing to stop anyone from hearing it.
Cleve tightened his grip on the stick. He crouched low in order to make a smaller target. He poised in a position in which he could attack any incoming objects at a moment's notice. Still, this made little difference. If a similar creature attacked, his stick would be virtually useless. In such an incident, his only hope was for the stranger to shoot the creature before it was too late. The stranger was a good shot, for hitting a moving target at about 100 yards was no easy feat. Cleve had confidence in the stranger, but he didn't even his name.
"What's your name," Cleve whispered casually, "and how did you get here?"