Few mammals were active in the dead of night, and the morning brought no ready-to-skin prey at the hands of Oscar as the Ranger checked and dismantled his traps. Wintertime was a sparse, lean season for all, and what animals still roamed freely would certainly have bunkered down during that snowstorm last night. It’d have taken a miracle for his traps to have come up with something that hadn’t planned on attacking them, and a miracle certainly was not forthcoming this morning.

Argen and Siwon’s little hunting trip proved futile as well. Though fresh snow left fresh tracks, what critters the bumbling warriors chanced upon were quick to dive into the snow again, disappearing the moment any sort of predatorial intent could be sensed. It didn’t help, of course, that the spear bros were spraying snow with every step; the night before had added another extra foot of loose, powdered snow for them to stomp through. Argen got the feeling pretty soon that the shoes and socks he had dried over the fire wouldn’t be dry for too much longer. After chiding and mockery from Siwon’s yellow little goblin freak, the two returned to camp, right as everyone looked to be ready to depart.

Katya had finished her prayers by then, rising up in the afterglow of her supplications. There was a flush to her skin, a glimmer to her eyes. Was it her youth that allowed her to believe so easily in the righteousness of the Sun God? Or had she, in the week she had been trained as a Priest, truly become devout? Regardless, the young girl brushed the snow that had packed against her knees, turning to Ettamri. Her eyes flickered to the knife offered, then to the face beneath the iron mask. A smile, and then…

[color=6ecff6]"Aw, you made this for me?"[/color] Katya said, cradling the chipped stone knife like a cute puppy or a surprise gift. It was rare to find such weapons in Andeave, after all. They may have been poor, but life on the frontier necessitated adequate arms, and stone weaponry...well, it certainly wasn't adequate. Heck, it wasn't even [i]good[/i] if compared to the staves brandished by the priesthood. But for a priest, who vowed not to take a blade of tempered steel in hand? The gesture was nice, as was the hours that must have gone into chipping that stone into something sharp enough to cut fabric. [color=6ecff6]"Thanks so much, 'tamri! But, uh, I still think you should like, have a big heart-to-heart with Muu some time...like, channel your niceness into being nice to her? You know?"[/color]

With those words, she beamed and gave the monolith of muscle a quick hug before skipping off to kick Renauld until the dozing mage woke up, his face dry and stiff from being slow-cooked against the flames. In another few minutes, they were off, half-stumbling, half-pushing through the loose snow.
[hr]
[u][b]Ettamri, Argen, Muu, Renauld, Siwon, and Katya[/b][/u]

Travelling northward, the sparse woodlands they rested themselves in soon broke off into hills, first soft and lenient, before steadily rising in incline and height. Loose snow became misery then, and travel had turned into a battle against boots that never seemed to have enough purchase. The horses, fatigued as they were, stumbled with their heavy burdens, paving the way for others, the snow crunch beneath hooves and wheels. Katya commandeered the top of the wagon again, some vague notion of being a lookout seizing her as she sat atop the sacks, her eyes slits as she watched over undulating waves of white.

Oscar had gone before them, the ranger blazing a trail and searching for game, but as a result, the party’s mood took a turn for the darker. Siwon was a [s]edgelord[/s] Fiend Knight, Argen had his demons, Renauld didn’t care, and if Muu and Ettamri did even as breath in each other’s vicinity, one of them would bleed soon enough. Or at least bitch. They trudged in silence, occasionally heaving and pushing the wagon from behind in order to get it out of the snowy rut it found itself in. Constant inclines and declines in terrain sapped at their energy, more than once causing someone to stumble or slip, but no one had rolled an ankle yet.

Small blessings, when the brilliant sun blinded them with the white expanses, until it was pain to look anywhere but below. It was an unpleasant trek soon enough. No one had the talent to rouse spirits, even though some may have tried. Monotony, rising up, rising down, hoping that the horses didn’t fall, hoping that the wheels didn’t break.
Hoping, hoping, hoping.

Ettamri smelled the blood, but her senses pulling her into razor-sharp awareness, her pupils shrinking to mere dots to compensate for the overpowering whiteness all around.

Argen straightened his back, his own deathly instincts causing his heart to beat just a little bit faster, a thick weight pressed against his throat. The same went for Muu, fresh alertness found as she gripped her sword.

The demon on Siwon’s shoulder shuddered, not from wind, but from fear. Fear that the ugly turd quickly turned into bravado, as it slapped the unsacrificing bastard on the head for no reason, before going on a tirade about the dark gods and the black lambs.

Renauld was not so exceptional, but could see the shift in the mood of the others, at least.

The air quieted, the cold calm before carnage.

They could not see it, but something was there, watching them.

Do they continue? Or do they prepare?

[u][b]Oscar[/b][/u]

The ranger travelled alone, falling into a familiar cadence. He was unburdened by the duties of the wagon, by the slowest of the group, and though he was a woodsman, more accustomed to forest than plains, his steps were sure, the path he took not having to consider the burdens of the horses, the wheels that had to stay level with each other. There was even a bit of fun to be had, scampering up snowy hills on all fours before sliding down the steep descent. He made good time, set a good rhythm, and the warmth in his blood helped him ignore the dampness of his boots. If their path was safe, Oscar would be able to make it to the hot spring first, and perhaps then, they’d finally be able to chase away the chill that had seeped into their very bones.

It was a beautiful day, blinding as it was. The ranger didn’t notice the non-shapes within the snow, as white as anything else. He passed them by, didn’t look back.

The trek continued through the hilly landscape, the waves of earth that had been bathed in pearly sky-essence. It was breaking upon a tall hill, too steep for a wagon to easily rise up on, that had allowed Oscar to witness what laid below.

The snow last night had covered some of it, but the bones still jutted out, the carcass of horses and wagon, empty sacks half submerged in snow, shattered casks split open. Pink stains, blood or wine, coated some patches of snow, while the bodies of fellow Silver Moon recruits were scattered haphazardly down below, their conditions impossible to tell at a distance. It was a big discovery, tremendous, even.

But could more be learned?

If he wanted to investigate, he’d have to head down and start digging. How much information was a scout supposed to get anyways, to appease an angry knight?