Darina wasn't lying, surprisingly. He moved forward alongside her, watching her, noting how her eyes occasionally moved to his weapon. He stayed side-by-side with her, wary of the growing distance between them and the rest of the group. But she was out of it, herself. Obviously the run had taken its toll on her. Not so much on these harder-working people.<br/><br/>The redhead stopped as a scent wafted towards her, and Scott stopped beside her. Darina stepped back, pulling one of her knives from its sheath. “There’s dead up ahead,” she said, and she appeared as though she were about to vomit. Alas, the bandits have a heart after all. Or perhaps she only knew they were there because her own had killed them, and she was sick with the terror that our group would know she was the cause.<br/><br/>Doubtful. Nevertheless, they soon came upon the slaughter. He couldn't see any trace of enemies, so he immediately went to checking the bodies. It was habit. He picked out the clips with ammunition, finding three or four bullets each, and checking the chambers. Scott hadn't noticed the girl knew them, figuring she had just been awestruck by the gruesome deaths. As she spoke he turned to her solid, low voice.<br/><br/>The girl was slowing masking his routine, checking bodies more thoroughly than he, with a determined expression. Darina chose to help her. Fine with him. Someone else could watch her.<span style="font-style: italic">But the girl...</span>She was just creepy, Scott decided. Or trying to hide her fear and be helpful. That was probably it. Little kid's always wanted to help. Unless someone told them to.<br/><br/>He went back to his task, and as he came upon the large tortoise he wondered how to open the shell... There was likely a good amount of meat on the inside, and he'd hate to see it go to waste. He set at it with his makeshift weapon, starting with the back leg where it was already open. The sharp, shattered metal made for a fair saw, and he was soon splitting the shell in half lengthwise.