The moon hung low over the canopy, plunging the forest into near-impenetrable darkness. They had been travelling for a very long time and conversation became less of a pass-time and more of a burden for the duo who crashed lazily through the brush, snapping twigs and kicking up dirt as they plodded across the damp and overgrown path. There were two - they both wore dark clothing but aside from that they made very little effort to hide themselves. Almost no effort at all, in fact. The smaller one at the front was using some sort of heavy metal apparatus to bash aside thin branches and leafy stems, carving a path for the taller, paler figure who sloped lazily behind her. They were headed towards the campfire.

The two figures hadn’t exchange much up until they approached the camp, not seemingly all too bothered if the fire was a trap or not. There wasn’t much need for it. Victor and Abigail approached the campfire slower once they spotted the woman crouched beside the flames. With raised hands, “Mind if I take a seat?” said Victor at the pale haired woman as the two neared and eventually stopped by the fire. Victor didn’t waste much more time idling around and gawking into the darkness. He shuffled around the campfire, finding a relatively clean spot beside it and squatting down before landing on his backside with a relieved groan.

Abigail remained standing. She gave the murky silhouettes of the trees a cursory glance and rolled her eyes, rubbing her nose on the back of her knuckles. “I thought we were going to the tomb…” she remarked despondently, rocking from the balls of her feet to her heels, “this pit-stop seems a bit pointless to me.” She hardly looked at the other woman as she absentmindedly pulled out a crumpled paper bag, plunging a hand into it and pulling out a small hard boiled sweet. She popped it into her mouth and looked down at Victor. “Need anything?”

Victor shook his head, wafting a hand in Abigail's direction. “We’re not stopping here long. Fire’s a fire, and I need a sit.” Abigail nodded again and shifted her weight ever-so-slightly, scuffing her boots against the undergrowth with an air of restlessness.