A sort of anxiety washed over Arthur. The way he'd been treated and his experiences since waking up had been, for lack of a better word, pleasant. Yet he was aware now that based on the information Clark had shared with him and simply with how close they now were to a substantial amount of people, this relative peace might have been at an end. 

As they packed up and stretched, Arthur could feel his stomach churn. He wasn't sure if it was just the anxiety or hunger or both but Clark was already nudging him a handing him a leaf to chew on. The scorching sun from before had made way for the moon, or rather two moons, and a chill had begun to roll in. The Amnesiac found himself nearly walking face first into a tree before Clark pulled him out of the way.

"Please be careful." The Cricket lectured.

"But the m-."

"What about them? I know you forgot a lot but surely the two pearls we see in the sky at night isn't something you could just cease to remember?" 

"Nevermind." Arthur shrugged. It's not like he could know what was or wasn't 'right' currently and staring into the sky certainly didn't help. What caught his attention next however was the warm orange glow beginning to materialise from behind the trees. Clark had stopped him and, without saying a word, began to guide him in a different direction. He realised they were nearing the road and Clark seemed put off by the sheer amount of torchlight approaching them. 

By the time they broke out into a narrow but visible path cutting through the forest the ringing of the bell had become insufferably loud. He could hear Clark attempt to mumble something about one thing or another being 'unusual' but to Arthur everything seemed unusual currently. He understood that they had to reach the path to avoid just fumbling out of the forest into a swathe of people but Clark had evidently entered Irris before so this should've been child's play to him.

As they made their way out of the path and connected with the main road, Arthur finally understood what the caravan was about.

Wagon after wagon made their way past the duo. Each pulled by two antlered creatures with steam rising from their noses as they huffed. It seemed they were feeling the chill too. Prisoners, goods, wheat, all rolling past them with no end in sight. All surrounded by armed guards and travelling on the outer parts of the road was...Everyone else. Drunks, farmers, other travelers. And while the air was busy was the sound of that godforsaken bell and the huffing of the animals pulling the wagons, Arthur could just barely catch hints of conversation here and there. A confusing blend of complaining, laughter and swearing. All largely incomprehensible and yet the sight and sound of other humans brought him comfort. It wasn't until he realised that he was staring at the passers by rather intently and was getting confused and threatening looks in return that he snapped out of it.

Clark, on the other hand, was frozen in place. Arthur quickly noticed that his eyes were following something and yet it didn't appear as though he was looking at any of the humans. Clark's eyes, it turned out, were fixated on one particular prison wagon. He watched in what Arthur could only interpret as horror as an entire wagon with a single prisoner on it rolled past them. An entire wagon for a single prisoner and yet the creatures that pulled it appeared to be struggling. Once he could see the prisoner more clearly, Arthur wasn't entirely sure if he was going to burst out laughing or just pull Clark right back and immediately start heading for Fletcherville again, his memory be damned.

The prisoner slowly disappearing from their sight was...A frog. A frog that, despite sitting down, would already be nearly as tall as Arthur. The prisoner was bound in three separate sets of chains for both his arms and legs and even that seemed more theatrical than practical. His hands looked big enough to crush each chain to dust with minimal effort and it probably wouldn't have taken more than a gentle stretch for the links on the chain that bound his legs to just start popping off one by one. When the prisoner appeared to look directly at him, Arthur felt like his eyes were going to jump out of his head with how quickly he averted his gaze.

"Look uh..." His thoughts escaped him. "We're about to miss our chance, not much of the caravan left." Arthur tapped Clark on the back and waited for a response.