Violent vermilion light bore it's way through the vines and splayed out like a fog far above, to the rotten reminder of what was once a creaking wooden walkway. The smell of smoke soon followed, meeting with Jovalyn and Rodrick climbed across the vines that had served as rails. They reached the moss mottled side an ancient tree. A series of vines of their own accord curled and slithered their way around the trunk like a snake, forming a climbable path to the ground floor.

 A group of figures in moleskin capes sat around a pyre, throwing the cloaked covered dead into its effulgent embrace. One of the many, a stocky man with a thin beard, walked off into the surrounding brush to relieve himself. Jovalyn traipsed after him, removing a thin wire from her pouch and wrapping it around both wrists. The man finally stopped, his sigh of relief suddenly stopped by a pressure around his throat. It sawed into his neck, until blood pooled out and the light of the pyre faded.

 Jovalyn unspooled the wire from her wrists and set it back into the pouch. She rejoined her brother and removed the bow from his back, shoving it into his arms and pointing at the haggard woman who was throwing the bodies into the fire. She removed a arrow from his quiver and handed it over hurriedly. The haggard woman toppled over -jagged arrow in back- into the pyre mid-carry, with the three remaining removing their sheathed blades, fire reflecting on glossy steel.

 The two Wardens left, silently deciding it'd be better to attack later than risk a direct confrontation now. They eventually found a cave entrance draped in foliage, which creaked aside for their passage. It was a uncomfortable place to sleep, glowing red eyes on the ceiling notwithstanding, but it was certainly safer than the troll infested outer reaches. Say what you will about hard rock, it won't lacerate you to death on purpose.

 The next morning they went over the map after a light breakfast. Noting the location of those killed and last seen Warden camps, they decided that they'd need to resupply and eat again if they were to get anything done. Plus there was the matter of Jovalyns hand, it seemed she had broken a few finger bones. Rodrick was fine, as he was evidently allergic to handling things in a manner similar to a man, and instead chose to hide in trees.

 They emerged from the cave into the morning dew of DuFair, which while notably less frightening than dusk, still had a few less than pleasant surprises. Most notably were the Man-Eating Plants, which was actually somewhat misleading as they ate pretty much anything that went within chomping distance. Active from when the sun rose to when it reached its highest-most point, it made traveling around ground level something of a chore. They could see a particularly verdant green one chomping on a Jaguar with spear thorns serving as teeth.

 Frowning, Rodrick quipped, “Almost makes me regret leaving the cave.”
Jovalyn sighed, “If it means we can kill more of those bastards, I'm more than happy to watch nature run its course.”
Rodrick gave Jovalyn a look, the look that she hated that suggested a mix of indignation along with less than hospitable contempt, “Well, sure, but I'd rather not...you know, that was a perfectly fine Jaguar just a moment ago. Now it's more of a perfectly fine mass of mush!”
“And?” Jovalyn asked tartly.
“You know what? We're not going to talk until both of us...especially you...get something resembling a meal. Come on, there's a camp not too far from here.”