Both Carrie and Jorgen were far more cautious, rising to a slow stand, taking deliberate steps which echoed the prints Tracker left. Myer jumped to a stand and fell to a backpedal. Ruach was there. Tracked puffed his chest and stomped till his shadow was properly driven into the forest cast across brush and bushes fading into the wafting smoke. He caught the scent of blood. He caught the sound of mumbling and chatter and shuffling feet. The outline rendered itself clearer. One man larger by fair margins than the other three. One hunched over gripping his head and cradling his head. One stood slanted- Like well aged men with good canes and bad backs- This one had no cane. This one took swaying steps forwards.

“Bloodied my comrades nose you have- I’m thinkin’ I’ll tit-your-tat-”

Tracker stepped between the three shadows and his allies-of-circumstance, with restraint he held a hand out and gestured towards them, the other slid back his cloak and set itself on the hilt of hilt blade, “Easy now, he didn’t mean any harm, we’ve got bandages and booze if you-”

Carrie carried her axe with an awkward shivered grip and gave a shout, “Halt! By the authority of The Sun League we demand to know if you are Vampires!”

Confusion and bewilderment overlapped across Tracker’s face leaving only disappointment, “Please stay quiet, girl. You do not have the authority- Nor is this the time- To be spouting that nonsense-”