and the plan’s abandoned
(well wouldn’t you know)
but the campfire blather will bang on and on again
It’s night outside, though no one in the dome has seen the sky for hours. Exhausted, the group unfurls their bedrolls and builds a fire from some meagre kindling, carried in from outdoors. Cang takes first watch, dusting the concrete powder from his warhammer’s grooves. Stealing a glance at Fassn, sleeping deeply, Cang takes a sniff of the powder, recoils from its acrid scent. He blows it away and stares into the darkness, kept barely at bay by the sputtering fire.
Shyan gives the order to make camp, and begins staking out the two patchwork canvas tents. Cang butchers the nightpig after cleaning his hammer, and Abia stokes a cookfire. Fassn sits nearby, flaking fragments from the nightpig’s tusks and secreting them into a small pouch.
After their dinner, Shyan takes first watch. Her shift is uneventful, though she hears many strange noises. Fassn is next, but she lets him sleep, instead, fearing what he might do with the tusks when he was alone.
When dawn comes, and her friends stretch lazily awake, Shyan blinks away the lure of rest, and breaks camp, leading the way to the dome.