"Yes, it seems to be a picture of domestic tranquility. Shall we move on, then?"
Zith sidles towards the door.
"Yah." Yel sees nothing further of interest and heads out before she has a chance to get bored.
Jacinthe takes a quick glance around and stuffs a few tasty tidbits into her bag for later, then follows the other two out, carefully locking the door behind her.
"Where now, comrades?" She swaggers down the street as rear guard, utterly convinced it is by far the most dangerous (and important) position in the marching order.
Walking ahead of Jacinthe, Yel's expression on being called a 'comrade' is unobserved. It's probably for the best. "Either your house to check the place over for unpleasant surprises, or straight to That Place." She shrugs and frowns at the early-spring-afternoon position of the sun. "Let's go for That Place while the light's with us."
"I'm with you, sister," Jacinthe chirps agreeably, cocking her hat at an even jauntier angle and whistling an insufferably cheerful tune as they walk. She occasionally graces a bystander with a wave of her beautifully gloved hand, assuming that all eyes are on her.
The trip to That Place is relatively uneventful, even with the grunting from the Hatchet that might be the sound of an irate ravage bear trying to claw out of the pit keeping it captive. Crossing the river is easier than usual, as the ice upstream has jammed the flow somewhat for now, revealing rocks that can be used as stepping stones.
The forest is eerily quiet, with the afternoon sunlight spilling through the bare branches of the trees and throwing strange shadows across the ground. Each step rings a crackle of frost underfoot and the occasional snapped twig, each branch passed groaning as the ice coating them crackles and shifts.
Reaching a point far enough into That Place that the sight and sound of the river is lost, much less the surrounding settlement, it becomes clear that even for this early in the year something has spooked the wildlife into silence.
Yel is hardly a forester, but she tries to keep an eye out for any sign of the missing people. With Jacinthe tromping around, she doesn't even try to be quiet either.
"The great outdoors. A wonderful example of why I prefer the urban life. Is it really necessary to have these trees and bushes everywhere?"
Although Zith's tone is casual, it is belied by his actions as he slips from cover to cover. Every time Yel or Jacinthe step on a particularly noisy branch, he winces and shifts a little further away from his two companions.
Jacinthe scuffs through the leaves, hands in her coat pockets, whistling softly. "Don't want any hunters thinking we're quarry and shooting us accidentally."
It doesn't take long for the signs of something strange to become apparent - trees with blackened patches of bark, odd traceries of metallic thread dangling from branches, and patches where the leaf litter has been scuffed and disturbed by a great deal of motion - although long enough ago that the frost has coated it into glimmering sculptures.
Then there comes a large clearing - artificial, judging by the way the rotting leaves dip into holes that were left when entire trees were torn out - with an intricate dome made of thin silvery wire, with a pair of mostly-human-size opening on either side. Inside, there's no leaf litter, just hard, packed dirt, free of frost.
"Well, now, doesn't this look interesting?" Jacinthe peers at one of the hanging metallic threads without touching it. "You guys know what it might be? Kids playing with baubles?"