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There was no definable moment that said 'you are here'. Other than the provided area map - maddeningly vague about even the boundaries of the Red zone - and a good grounding in orienteering there was no way to say for sure when he had arrived at the site. For the sake of clarity later when he would be required to write up a report Arlo deemed himself in the Red Zone when he was half a mile past the outer edge of the fuzzy border scribbled, erased, and re-scribbled multiple times onto the map.

The approach he had taken came in through a series of broken cliffs, also not well indicated on the map. He and the horse had been skirting around the overhangs, going down slowly, tier by tier.

To his eye it looked like they had come no closer to the ground far below. He knew they had made progress. A glace back would show many stepped cliffs even further above them, but, no matter how closely he watched the landscape it seemed to sneak more rock between him and the tree tops without raising an alarm in him when it did.

Being too dignified for frustrated sighing, Arlo turned his unusually impatient eyes away from what lay ahead to take in the view of the latest overlook. The deep lines of discontent smoothed in surprise, then deepened to their utmost. There was movement in the distance. The cause had to be quite large as he could still see it though it was far enough away that the atmosphere had started to tint all the green around it blue.

Pop, went the clasp on his forward saddlebag. Out and up went the field glasses.

With the lenses between him and the landscape everything looked normally forest-like, and obnoxiously tinted sulfur yellow. Arlo flipped the glasses to look for a film on the outer curve of glass. He found nothing, but polished it on his sleeve to be sure.

He gave the land a glance with the naked eye to confirm that it was in normal shades of nature and that the movement was still out there before raising the field glasses again. Everything promptly turned yellow and the large, unidentified mass in the distance was not to be found even when he scanned across the horizon. Perturbed, he stowed the glasses back in their hard sided bag.

Arlo spared one last glance at the amorphous strands that were still undulating as if sewing themselves into the trees they towered above in the far off distance. He stubbornly ignored the uneasy feeling that this place would soon force him to reconsider the farfetched reports of the mysterious Red Zone he refused to believe. Still, he took the time to unroll the bedroll and take out the pair of scabbards he had hidden in the thick wool. If he needed them it would he better if they were easy at hand.

_______________________________________________

Arlo has been very sneaky He has a sword AND a rifle (plus the matching pistol issued with it) for now... No one can say he's going into this unprepared. Of course, in horror movies the competent ones always die early so they can't save the rest of the group with their knowledge XD

Description

First
Previous
Next

There was no definable moment that said 'you are here'. Other than the provided area map - maddeningly vague about even the boundaries of the Red zone - and a good grounding in orienteering there was no way to say for sure when he had arrived at the site. For the sake of clarity later when he would be required to write up a report Arlo deemed himself in the Red Zone when he was half a mile past the outer edge of the fuzzy border scribbled, erased, and re-scribbled multiple times onto the map.

The approach he had taken came in through a series of broken cliffs, also not well indicated on the map. He and the horse had been skirting around the overhangs, going down slowly, tier by tier.

To his eye it looked like they had come no closer to the ground far below. He knew they had made progress. A glace back would show many stepped cliffs even further above them, but, no matter how closely he watched the landscape it seemed to sneak more rock between him and the tree tops without raising an alarm in him when it did.

Being too dignified for frustrated sighing, Arlo turned his unusually impatient eyes away from what lay ahead to take in the view of the latest overlook. The deep lines of discontent smoothed in surprise, then deepened to their utmost. There was movement in the distance. The cause had to be quite large as he could still see it though it was far enough away that the atmosphere had started to tint all the green around it blue.

Pop, went the clasp on his forward saddlebag. Out and up went the field glasses.

With the lenses between him and the landscape everything looked normally forest-like, and obnoxiously tinted sulfur yellow. Arlo flipped the glasses to look for a film on the outer curve of glass. He found nothing, but polished it on his sleeve to be sure.

He gave the land a glance with the naked eye to confirm that it was in normal shades of nature and that the movement was still out there before raising the field glasses again. Everything promptly turned yellow and the large, unidentified mass in the distance was not to be found even when he scanned across the horizon. Perturbed, he stowed the glasses back in their hard sided bag.

Arlo spared one last glance at the amorphous strands that were still undulating as if sewing themselves into the trees they towered above in the far off distance. He stubbornly ignored the uneasy feeling that this place would soon force him to reconsider the farfetched reports of the mysterious Red Zone he refused to believe. Still, he took the time to unroll the bedroll and take out the pair of scabbards he had hidden in the thick wool. If he needed them it would he better if they were easy at hand.

_______________________________________________

Arlo has been very sneaky He has a sword AND a rifle (plus the matching pistol issued with it) for now... No one can say he's going into this unprepared. Of course, in horror movies the competent ones always die early so they can't save the rest of the group with their knowledge XD