Combeferre's backpack was sodden but it still carried the things he deemed necessary: the clothes would dry; the pistols were safe; the first-aid kit and the knife would help them in case of... jungle mishaps. He hopes.
Following Bahorel into the dense jungle, he feels all the hairs rising on the back of his neck. There are entities here that aren't friendly, and he shudders despite the heat and humidity. Glancing back, behind Courfeyrac, Combeferre can see some of the survivors forming into a group near the beach. None of the survivors seem to have taken any notice of the three of them, which he counted a small relief. Some were still floating in the waves, perhaps looking for more people or whatever other baggage floated to the surface, but he wasn't going back again. No. It's time for them all to start the search for real.
Combeferre's shoes made squelching noises with each step, and he hoped he would dry out a bit as he walked, though the muggy air was oppressive in the jungle.
"It doesn't feel right here," he mutters, turning toward Courfeyrac. "I feel as though someone is stalking us."
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
branchandroot
(no subject)
Date: 2013-04-30 08:26 pm (UTC)Following Bahorel into the dense jungle, he feels all the hairs rising on the back of his neck. There are entities here that aren't friendly, and he shudders despite the heat and humidity. Glancing back, behind Courfeyrac, Combeferre can see some of the survivors forming into a group near the beach. None of the survivors seem to have taken any notice of the three of them, which he counted a small relief. Some were still floating in the waves, perhaps looking for more people or whatever other baggage floated to the surface, but he wasn't going back again. No. It's time for them all to start the search for real.
Combeferre's shoes made squelching noises with each step, and he hoped he would dry out a bit as he walked, though the muggy air was oppressive in the jungle.
"It doesn't feel right here," he mutters, turning toward Courfeyrac. "I feel as though someone is stalking us."