Day 020: The Long Way Around
Summary: A group of Grounders attempts to intercept Sonia's war party.
Date: 08 Jun 2016
Related: Immediately continued in Don't Mind the Wall
Arlin Britt Rinnan Tuan Wren 

Forests Around the Camp — The Wilderness

This forest is a mingling of hardwoods and temperate evergreens, with towering oaks and cedars mixed with slender alders. The ground is covered in grassy mosses and thick ferns — some with sharp, sword-like leaves and others with tight spiraled stems that unfurl toward the crowded canopy. Beyond the trees and ferns, the forest also hosts arching, moss-draped vine maples and flowering blackberry bushes as just some of its flora occupants.

Toward the west, the forest begins to break as the mountains climb, revealing meadow balds and the broad web of the divided Potomac.

Day 20

Southeast. That's what their intel said about the expected vector of the attack. If they had a larger force, they might have been able to cover all possible approaches. Alas, since the Polis trio is merely a trio, they didn't have such luxury. Britt has taken up a position on a small rise, leaning against a tree and scanning the forest expectantly.

Rinnan is up the tree, the small creaks and sighs of a weight bearing branch now entertaining the weight of more than a bird giving off for her action. Britt scans one way, Rinnan scans another. She seems uninterested in talking for the moment, at least until there's something worth noting. At present, there seems to be little in the way of 'worth noting'.

Wren has been in the area for a long time. He's been watching the camp arm and ready themselves. And from the trees, moving around, he has a good vantage point from anywhere he looks. Which is why he might be surprised when he spies a small group of Trikru not a part of the warband moving around, when he looks to the southeast. Which is kinda interesting in of itself. So the big man climbs down from his perch moving over in that direction.

Sonia's unpredictable, or so the rumors go. The longer the Polis trio has been watching and waiting to no avail, the grumpier the medic's become. "She was stupid enough to release the sickness before Indra's call. Should've seen she'd probably do some bizarro crap like take the long way 'round." That sardonic insight dished, Arlin frowns, both at the mouth and brows. The furrows take a different cast when he espies the disembarking Wren ambling their way. "Incoming," he alerts the ladies, from his own leafy perch.

"Nothing surprises me, at this point," is Britt's dry response to Arlin's griping. When he says 'incoming', her initial thought is that it's Sonia's war party. She looks in the direction Arlin's looking, though, and sees only a single warrior - and a vaguely familiar one at that. She frowns a touch.

Rinnan's reaction to Arlin's incoming is a swift hunkering down in said tree, one hand on the trunk and the other on a knife. Until that is, she sees Wren approaching through the negative spaces in the foliage. "Oh, its Wren," Rinnan observes with neutrality, like calling out other things on the landscape. She unhunkers but for the moment, stays up in the tree and goes back to scanning the opposite direction.

"Yes, it's just me. Your friendly neighborhood Wren." the big man remarks idly, coming up to a stop, looking at the three of them a oddly. "Funny to anyone else that's not Tuan out here. We've been watching the camp, didn't expect to see anyone else here. Well, you know, that's not out here with murderous intent." A pause, rolling his shoulder slowly. "So what are you all doing out here?"

Tone is important, so it should've been specified that Arlin's alert lacked the vim the war party would've warranted. Wren prompted something more wry. Britt and Rinnan can always slug the medic later. He's so bored that he'd probably even welcome it. Said boredom might account for how he blithely replies to the big man below, "If we told you, we'd have to kill you." That's probably a joke. Even if only because the Heda's crew operates on a need-to-know basis. "What about you? You here with murderous intent?" Odds are he's not talking about the Delinquents, being that Wren very openly stated his intentions at the Thing.

Britt's eyebrows go up in quiet bemusement at Arlin's response to Wren. More helpfully, she offers, "No murderous intent here. Unless you brought a horse - then I think we might have to worry about Arlin's intentions." Deadpan teasing, as per usual.

What is not so usual though, is a sudden bellow of an alarmed-sounding "SHIT!!!" from the direction of the Delinquents camp. They're not close enough to be in earshot of general chatter at the camp, but that? That carried.

Rinnan's feet dangle a moment before she slips from the branch, catching hold of it long enough to dangle a moment and control her drop. Her knees bend in absorption of the fall just in time for 'SHIT!!!'. Whatever she was going to say to Wren, which by the look on her face was at least a wind up to a friendly greeting is cancelled by that distinct, if disjointed 'SHIT!!!!'. "So, that's probably bad," she observes with a slightly hedgey, if mostly neutral observation. Water is wet. Trees are tall. Screaming shit at full volume probably means bad things. She looks over at Wren and Britt by proximity before looking at Arlin, as her head tips in direction of the sound in a silent invitation to perhaps observe further.

Wren shrugs. "I was thinking about it." he admits plainly. "But I'll defy Indra before I defy Oxfor." Apparently, the big man's loyalty only goes so far to those who have proven it to him, and the steheda has more than done that in the past. "I think this is wrong, but that's my opinion, which in the long run, means nothing. Oxfor wants to stay neutral, I disagree, again, means nothing. But that doesn't mean I'll act against his word. Though…I was thinking about it. But my axe isn't wet yet. Maybe I was looking for a better way to help." Then he eyes Arlin. "Do you have a better way? Because I'm willing to listen to it."

Wren doesn't turn his head completely towards the sound, but he hears it, eyes looking sidelong in that direction. "Looks like things are afoot."

From the camp, there comes the resounding noise that is relatively new to everyone's ears. It sounds like a series of sharp, precise cracks. There are three shots in all.

Britt, Arlin, Rinnan and Wren are on a small wooded rise not far from the Delinquent's camp. Rinnan has just hopped down from her lookout perch in a tree to join the others, who were standing around talking at the base of said tree. Then there was a shout of SHIT! from the camp. Then a series of three cracks.

"Never enough glue," is Arlin's reply to Britt's quip, a wee too gleeful to qualify as deadpan. And then he hears their stage cue, which means getting boots back on the ground, which he does easily enough despite the heft of his rucksack. Someone came prepared. For what? If they're lucky, they may never know. "Looks like they took the scenic route."

Readjusting his straps, the medic moseys to his compatriots. His mouth opens to answer Wren, and something in Arlin's expression suggests there probably would've been something sardonic in the delivery, but he's cut off by the sound of three sharp cracks that have cut through the distance to reach all their ears. For a moment, he stills like a rabbit, pupils capable of betraying the sudden flutter in his chest, if only they weren't shadowed by the brim of his ball cap augmenting the shadow mask of ash darkening his skin. It lasts for several heartbeats that throb with aching ambivalence before hazel eyes, now gimlet sharp and gleaming, cut toward the direction of the noise. "We're movin' out," he declares, baritone rougher and more strident than usual, "And hope the Mountain didn't hear."

Left behind, or at least was visiting some other area before the battle broke out, Tuan has finally made his way to the group of other Grounders looking very grumpy. His disposition and posture are stressed and he actually seems almost surprised when he comes up on the others, stopping shortly. "How … How is it going?"

"Alright fearless leader." Wren is more than happy to follow along. Better this than his other idea. Which may of not gone nearly as well.

Britt starts to reply to Wren, "There's a chance…" Well, there /was/ a chance. But whatever they had planned seems to have gone sideways. "What the hell was that?" she asks aloud, flinching a little at the unfamiliar crack of gunshots. Bow in hand, she's ready to follow Arlin, but does cast a frown in his direction. "Do we have a plan?" she asks, with that why-am-I-even-asking note to her voice. Tuan gets a brief glance. "Going to hell, it looks like," she quips.

The noise, while negative in its sound, doesn't at least to Rinnan carry negative connotations emphatically. It's a bad sound in a world of patently bad sounds. Despite Arlin's declarative statement that they as a 'we' move out, Rinnan's already quietly moving in the direction of the noise, offering the group a silent raise of the eyebrows that seems keen on checking out said noise.

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