A good distance down from the gate behind the afterparty, she paused. From where she stood, she made out the lines of another gate further from her desired tent than she’d like. She didn’t want to chance getting spotted by other workers not at the gathering before she wanted to be. She doubled back, daring to take her hand off the train car and test herself with a slow jog. She still felt off-balance, but it was doable. She hoped that if she wound up needing to run for her life, she could manage it by then. Back at where the wood turned into mesh fence, she removed her backpack and squeezed through a gap between the two types of fencing just large enough for her slender frame. Her pack caught, but she managed to squish its contents around enough for it to follow after her. She shrugged it back on and trudged along the shadows of the farirground’s fence. A dirt road ran alongside her. A few sad, dim streetlamps created pathetic patches of light every few car-lengths opposite the fence. Every little noise drew her attention or startled her. She ran through what little she knew about vampires, and how to defend herself from them. There were the classic measures, of course: holy water, stake through the heart, etc. She stopped and glanced to the row of trees lurking behind the lamps. Mostly various types of palm, the sweet smells from a few flowering trees hung in the air. She scanned the ground for any decent-sized branches. Alas, from what she could see, only small twigs unhelpfully littered the sprouting weeds beneath. She sighed. She didn’t have time to go hunting for a better weapon. She’d just have to make do. And keep an eye open for anything useful as she went. Thankfully, she found a side gate closer to the main tent. Though she could mostly walk in a straight line now, she still didn’t quite trust herself to jump the fence again. Not on the first try, at least. The lock for this gate rested on the outside. It lacked its padlock, likely stored in one of the pockets of a carnival worker. She pushed it open just enough to peek inside. A smaller booth covered in a canvas tarp blocked her view of the fairgrounds. She could hear chatter and arguing as workers not at the afterparty started taking down the unneeded stands and equipment. She suspected they’d soon start dragging things out to the train. She cringed as the hinges squealed as she opened the gate enough to enter. Hoping it would still be unlocked if she wound up needing a quick getaway, she closed it as quietly as she could behind her. Putting extra focus into each step, she crept to the edge of the booth blocking her view. The large tent rose toward the sky just a short sprint away. She let out an irritated huff. So close, yet so far. Half crouching, she crept further out from the booth and turned her head toward the majority of the voices. Though the harsh lights of the yard made her nearsighted, turning the forms of the workers into blurry shapes further away, she got the impression none of them looked her way. They hurried about between the different setups, a few coming down as Arla watched. Keeping low, she hurried toward the last covered booth between her and the Big Top. With another glance in the general direction of the others to make sure she had’t been spotted yet, she slunk across the final stretch toward the tent flaps.