Re: The Fairgrounds at dusk
A crooked finger pulled Kane's scarf down from around his mouth. Shortly after spittle flew from his mouth. The smell of the cruor filled his senses, olfactory and otherwise.
Impatiently he wanted to leave the body here, to rot in the night where it belonged. Yet an essential part of their calling in protecting the public from these predators was guarding their minds from their presence. Kane could only imagine the calamity caused by these fiends' knowing. This crew could barely maintain their own sanity with the horrors that they faced.
He looked at the body himself, getting a good look at it for the first time. It was ugly. It was horrid. It was unlike anything he'd seen before. He thought.
Sure as shit wasn't going to wrap the thing in his poncho. That'd make no sense at all. He'd wait for the horses, to see what spare blankets they had. Then hopefully by then the trail wouldn't be too cold
"By the way," the slinger says, "that thing is not going on the back of Wilbur." The chuckle that followed almost sounded evil. Wilbur was Kane's horse for the time being.
"Nathaniel, Michael...want to get an early start on the hunt?" If Luther wanted to wait on his long gun from the horse, he and Billy could wait with the body. Kaneenawup didn't want to wait any longer than they had to.