[center][h1][color=dimgray]Caractacus[/color][/h1][/center]
The work was slow going but simple, as Caractacus's undead gathered anything that could be described as a stick on the forest floor. One held two armfuls of twigs, dropping dozens as it bent to pick up another fistful, while another was dutifully dragging a log back toward the campsite, and the rest were gathering somewhere in between the two extremes. Caractacus made sure to keep a watchful eye on all of his undead, and that they did not wander far. As he swept his gaze to follow the log-dragger, he caught sight of one of the party members, the warrior woman, approaching.

Caractacus turned to face her, though he kept swinging his eyes back on to the zombies to be sure they didn't attract any harmful attention. She was making small talk, asking him how the work was going. Caractacus narrowed his eyes slightly. Something wasn't right, he could feel it. This woman wanted something from him, or was looking to distract him. He made sure to look around thoroughly once more before putting on a smile so fake it could peel paint. [color=dimgray]"The work goes, ah, well. I--er, I suppose they, are quite adept at it."[/color] He looked to the zombies once more. [color=dimgray]"And y-you are hunting, yes?"[/color]

The woman introduced herself as Kathryn, or Kat. Caractacus nodded, far too quickly. [color=dimgray]"Yes, yes, a p-pleasure to meet you, Kathr--Kat. Or, er--ahem."[/color] Caractacus cleared his throat, taking a deep breath. [color=dimgray]"In any m-matter, I am Caractacus Dool. Y-you may call me...Caractacus."[/color] He finished his own introduction with a nervous chuckle. Surely the ambush was coming, wasn't it? He looked around once more for the woodsman, or perhaps the beastly man, sneaking up on him.