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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Kobold Stew" data-source="post: 7887197" data-attributes="member: 23484">The oily smoke from the fires curls into the sky, a thin tendril reaching to find haven in some new vegetation. Miss Imogen watches it, and feels a victory when the moisture of the jungle seems to dissipate the smoke before it can find purchase. The victory isn't hers, she knows,but she feels it is everyone's. She has not said much, she knows. The oppressive heat and the Death Rot are choking all of them, she knows. She looks at her companions, and gives a smile where she can, hoping to perceive who is feeling the most stress, and how best she can help them. She makes a simple broth, salts it lightly, and offers it to any who want it.She recovers some of her arrows, cleans them, and wants to wipe the tarry substance off the arrowheads that seems to have affected every arrow that had hit.  When it's time to get moving, she takes point, creeping ahead as silently as she can so that they are not surprised. Weed is balanced on her backpack, holding on to the straps She turns around and sees him repacking the Chultan doll she had been given so many weeks ago. She does not know when he took it out.[ooc]Insight: <a href="http://www.coyotecode.net/roll/lookup.php?rollid=232898" target="_blank">1d20+4=14</a>. (also tool prof: in cooking tools!).Stealth: <a href="http://www.coyotecode.net/roll/lookup.php?rollid=232899" target="_blank">1d20+5=20</a>.[/ooc]</blockquote>