Snippet #1812609

Mahdi's eyes were met with cold glances. Even those were sparing; most simply busied themselves on the other side of the camp. He caught sight of a few children peering from behind the edge of a curtain, only to disappear as quickly as they had come. A horse whinnied as he passed it; either it too felt the atmosphere or it could smell his scent, swaddled as it was beneath his clothing. Animals always knew, somehow. The camp was large; disorganized to his eyes. All he had to work on was a rumour, and even that was just a rumour of another. He slipped his scarf beneath his chin and sniffed the air delicately. Woodsmoke, drifting slowly from the other end of the camp. No doubt in preparation for breakfast. A faint waft of perfume permeating the stronger smell of sweat and horse. Over it all he could smell the overbearing stink of the Cursed Wood. True to name, the smell did not please. He covered his face again, partly to obscure his features, but mostly to blot out the smell of the woods. He turned towards the smell of smoke and continued walking. Perhaps there he would find more people. Perhaps they would talk.