... Well that's worrisome. He'll pull her aside, then, and hide behind an outcropping of an old stone wall, probably someone's base or home or something. His voice is a little quieter, now.
"There were things in this wasteland. There still are. Not much. Remnants, mostly. But it's too quiet. If they haven't been too disturbed by my mess earlier, or are just getting alerted, that would mean either there's a patrol coming this way, or--"
... Or not far behind them, a messenger who'd finally noticed HEY, A BUNCH OF YOUR MEN DIED has come to the outpost, flying overhead. He points upwards. Fortunately, they're decently hidden, there, and seem to be overlooked, but...
It's funny. Bat wings and ridiculously curly horns... everything, about what you'd expect of, you know, stereotypical demon. Very warm colors. Yellows and oranges, in solid blacks, as far as clothing goes. Eventually, he finishes his sentence:
"--Or they noticed I made a bit of a mess earlier. ... Finally."
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"There were things in this wasteland. There still are. Not much. Remnants, mostly. But it's too quiet. If they haven't been too disturbed by my mess earlier, or are just getting alerted, that would mean either there's a patrol coming this way, or--"
... Or not far behind them, a messenger who'd finally noticed HEY, A BUNCH OF YOUR MEN DIED has come to the outpost, flying overhead. He points upwards. Fortunately, they're decently hidden, there, and seem to be overlooked, but...
It's funny. Bat wings and ridiculously curly horns... everything, about what you'd expect of, you know, stereotypical demon. Very warm colors. Yellows and oranges, in solid blacks, as far as clothing goes. Eventually, he finishes his sentence:
"--Or they noticed I made a bit of a mess earlier. ... Finally."