"The tent's still here", he says with a glance over his shoulder. "Warm
coats might be advisable. And perhaps some form of armament?"
Ichabod gives her a Look and a put upon sigh, but nods.
"If I must. But I will count on you for a rescue."
With what is clearly a movement of gathering his nerve, Ichabod glares at
her and marches off to be distracting while Alex does her part.
Ichabod looks intensely uncomfortable with the whole situation, and almost
flees back to the tent with only an awkward smile for the poor shop girl.
"Never. Ever. Make me do that again."
"Not with any great skill." He's examining it, takes the shells back out
of his pocket, and practices loading. "But I can learn."
"Noted", he says with a dry nod. "And can I suggest you fire only if
strictly necessary? No need to cause yourself further damage without good
"My meaning was, let me do it first", he returns, unfazed. "And
only if... whatever it may be... escapes my fire, should you join battle."
"Forward", he says with a slight shrug. "Sticking close to the tent will
do us no good, and it stands to reason the way back lies ahead... somehow."
"No", he admits. "I was generally in New York and the surrounding
regions. I never came this far south - or west, for that matter."
"Oh? Do tell."
He's half-listening, half paying close attention to their surroundings.
"So this is... perhaps something the creature knows, in some way", he
guesses. "Or... oh, no."
"Turn around", he says - almost hisses, really. "Very, very slowly. It
hasn't seen us yet."
From behind her, something clicks on the stony ground.