Finding the cart was easy. The mixed stench of blood and viscera blew right into her face in the night wind, mixed alongside hint of pickles and fresh eggs. Of which when combined made for a rather volatile mixture of the nasty kind. A tickle of bestial instinct urged her to gorge on the carcass, but it was stamped down as soon as it reared its head.

Heh, she sure had went a long way. A couple centuries back and it would've been a feast. Now? Verdant definitely was a tad spoiled.

Not like she'd trade it back. Good food was part of living well after all.

She found the cart alright, as well as the horse pulling it. Well, the half left uneaten by the dragon. It looked like the overgrown lizard snapped at the horse and brought the poor thing skyward until it quite literally ripped in half under the cart's weight. The result, well. Messy was an understatement. If someone were to restore the cart they'll never get the stench of blood and horse guts out of the wood.

But that's irrelevant. What's more important was the food supply, mostly still sort-of secured in the wrecked and overturned cart, though some was strewn all over the road. Verdant worked quickly, cutting and tearing through the sturdy canvas that was once the roof of the cart, before laying down what boxes and sacks and whatnot that looked relatively unsoiled. The eggs and pickle fluid kind of splatter everywhere, mixing with some flour and grain spilling from some broken and torn containers, but for the most part the packaging was sufficiently sturdy to survive the fall.

Thank goodness for that. Hunting for sustenance in this kind of place was... likely risky. Not to mention whether it was even edible in the first place. Like, Verdant herself probably would be fine. The rest of the party? Not so much. Would be a sad end to the trip if they're forced to turn around for lack of a bite of bread.

Ah, wait. She was so preoccupied with the supplies that she kind of missed one important thing. Tilting her head to listen, followed by a sniff, the serpent simply failed to catch any sign of their coachman. She focused inward, soon after flicking a serpentine tongue as she tasted the air, but same result. No scent of coachman. No sweat, no blood, no lingering fear and adrenaline in the air. Nothing. As if the man had vanished from then and there.

Or had something similar to those Kadanian Woodswraith. She still had no idea how they managed to elude all her senses.

Well, whatever. If he wasn't dead here he's probably on his way back home already. It's not like Verdant can afford to backtrack, she already spent most of her allocated time here. Dusting her hands as she finished piling the last box on the center of the somewhat rectangular canvas, the final addition clanging in the telltale noise of cookwares, she gathered the corners and roughly tied them together with a similarly salvaged rope. Just to keep it from falling out during transportation.

As for the transportation? Verdant focused further, her form melting down and elongate until in her place was a massive serpent with scales the hue of deep, glimmering emerald. She snapped up the rope and pulled the canvas bundle along, making good progress despite the rather unwieldy bulk of her luggage.

She's stronger than she looked, after all. Especially after absorbing Viridian back in the days.