*Fabian snorts and starts to make a retort about cupcake explosives, but the words fall flat in his throat. Up ahead, right where their intel had said it would be, is a clearing, and in that clearing, the camp.
It's rudimentary at best. Everything is makeshift, the tents roughly cobbled together from canvas and tarps and clothing and cardboard, held up with sticks, or suspended from low branches. There are clear signs of habitation - the remains of campfires that look no more than a day old, piles of animal carcasses, and the like. At least Fabian is hoping they're just animal carcasses. Slowing, he pauses just outside the camp, looking around carefully, wand at the ready. There's food, shelter, fire - so where are the people? The whole place (maybe some twenty-odd shelters in all) is deserted and there's an eerie quiet, as though the animals in this forest know better than to get too close. Something about it's definitively not right.
On edge and ready for a fight, he stalks slowly forward into the camp, gaze darting from tent to tent.*
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Date: 2011-03-19 10:16 pm (UTC)It's rudimentary at best. Everything is makeshift, the tents roughly cobbled together from canvas and tarps and clothing and cardboard, held up with sticks, or suspended from low branches. There are clear signs of habitation - the remains of campfires that look no more than a day old, piles of animal carcasses, and the like. At least Fabian is hoping they're just animal carcasses. Slowing, he pauses just outside the camp, looking around carefully, wand at the ready. There's food, shelter, fire - so where are the people? The whole place (maybe some twenty-odd shelters in all) is deserted and there's an eerie quiet, as though the animals in this forest know better than to get too close. Something about it's definitively not right.
On edge and ready for a fight, he stalks slowly forward into the camp, gaze darting from tent to tent.*