The Camp was a busy place, men and women bustling around, doing a multitude of things. Some helped break camp; taking down tents, hitching wagons, packing supplies. Others cooked breakfast, gave their weaponry a clean, or just tried to look busy while not actually doing anything. Through the camp strolled one woman with an air of superiority, and a rifle nearly as long as she was. Along with slitted eyes and a lot more weapons besides her rifle, it was clear this woman was the leader of the camp. The town they were currently camped out around, and the town where her newest contracter currently was, had an interesting reputation. Being a border town, the jungles within sight of the normal man's eyes led to a lot of interesting people. And Faile's men had made a few new graves with the ones who thought interesting meant immunity to their thuggish behavior. The local law was, like most of the world, a pile of shit, but they would probably catch on eventually, which was why Faile was eager to move on, and soon.
"Where is that man? Can't trust a guy to be punctual" she muttered, deciding to take a seat by a free stump and whip out her Roses, checking them over for and faults, dirt, or defects that could be really bad when she needed it the least.