Who Goes There?

Simon chuckled softly at Katya's comments about his setup being worthy of a queen, his eyes moving around them as she moved into the tent. Offering an affirmative grunt to her comment of giving a kick to rouse her, he walked towards the wood line of the clearing. It was not normal protocol to start a fire in the middle of the day, for the smoke would be visible for miles and would attract unwanted attention. However, he had meats in his pack that had been preserved that he desperately wanted to cook and season with something other than salt. Besides, with the foliage overhead, he doubted the smoke that filtered through would be packed close enough to be able to be tracked.

However, he bent his will to that of protocol and instead seated himself beside the fire. Pulling his axe from his bel, he set it down beside him as he gathered the remnants of wood from the dead fire. Breaking the charred wood into large chunks, he moved the pieces of dried charcoal off to the side to be saved before throwing the rest back into the fire. The charcoal would be helpful if he needed to start a fire during this expedition. Standing up with a groan, he slipped his axe back into his belt and carried the pieces of charcoal over to Striker.

Opening up one of the bags on his saddle and putting them inside, he patted the stallion on the neck gently before whispering, "I swear I will stop adding stuff soon. I just keep finding things." As if speaking to the horse brought the idea forward, he began to undo the horses' saddles and bridles, setting them down on the ground in an attempt to give them a break from the immense weight on their backs. They were strong horses and would never complain or protest, but he still tried to repay them by removing the burden when it was no longer necessary to wear it.

It was when he was setting the last parts of Maddox's equipment on the ground that he heard the faint whispers of someone singing. Glancing over to Katya where she was sleeping, he chose not to rouse her for this. For all he knew, The voice could come from a traveler moving down the road. He had picked this clearing for its camouflage and it would be completely pointless to go busting out with weapons drawn. Instead, he simply pulled his axe from his belt and made his way slowly into the woods on the far side of the clearing from the road. Rounding the underbrush that surrounded the clearing, he saw a petite figure standing in the woods close to the road. Feeling as if they were looking towards him, he let the axe head fall so that he had a more proper grip on it as he moved out into the figure's view.