crossing_lostrp | Over Hill, over Dale.. (overland crew)

The Doctor had converted Blaise and Daniel's communicaters. They looked a bit silly, but they worked.

The Doctor kept Blaise's, as he couldn't speak Aramaic so that simple code excluded the marine.

The Doctor saw Chris take Jack to the camp he was to help guard, and waited for the young man’s return to be sure the trip went well, then he took off in the direction Damon and Scott had marked on a crude map.

At six foot two the Doctor had long strides, and found himself cutting back just a bit, because losing his volunteers would not help the mission.

They didn’t follow a trail, except the one he broke in as they shoved through underbrush and grasses. If it weren’t for the rough map and the occasional sight of the far off whisp of smoke, getting lost would seem an easy thing.

They ate up ground at a stride that had most of them getting a stitch in their sides and a burn in their lungs long before the first ‘break’. It had been hours of walking over uneven ground, through brush and trees and pressed upon by tropical heat. The water was a godsend. The terrain would have been beautiful if they were able to pause and appreciate it.

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Faith shifted impatiently. Either they were going to stay or they weren't. In her professional opinion, if the trap had been laid and sprung, either the setter or setters knew they were there and were closing in, or hadn't a single clue and weren't going to come dashing in. If there were Jungle Psychos coming then moving on wasn't going to make that much difference.

"Makes no diff to me, but from what I can see, it makes no diff at all," Faith declared. "Either someone set it for us and will be coming, in which case we're sitting ducks one way or another. Those Jungle Fruit Fucking Loops know this area a whole helluva lot better than we do, and have an advantage. Whether we camp down here or push ahead another mile or ten ain't that gonna make that much difference.

"And a trap like that? It's meant to kill or maim, not to give splinters," Faith glanced apologetically at the Doctor, "Not that I'm slightin' your wound or nothin'. I don't think that they set up another one anywhere near. Personally, if we stop here, we got the power of defense behind us. We'll be alert and ready for 'em if anyone comes.

"But," Faith leaned against the nearest tree, "It's not my call and not my show. Scott and Doc are the ones with the most to lose, so it should be their call. If we want to move on, I'll scout. If we want to stay put, I'm sure the Brothers Extraordinaire, Spidey-Gal, J, Mol and me can play nice and get some serious defense set up."

Now that the spinter was gone, and Scott had done an excellent job of stepping the worst damage, the injury was easier to work around for a while.

Jon had a point. They all did.

"If someone's comming not being exactly where they expect us will help. But I'm not going to be able to go more than a mile, maybe two. I can stave off shock for that long. And I kinda used up a good deal of energy as well, so exhaustion on top of that, is gonna make me unsteady to say the least." He hated being pretty much depnedant for the moment. Scott had saved him from dealing with excessive blood loss on top of the rest, for which he was grateful. "Plus, as a group we're leaving an easy to follow trail. I don't know if we can move forward without leaving a tangible one now. So we press on a bit more. One hour guard rotations. It's been a hard haul and longer than that will mean people being less than alert."

The jumper was a gonner. But the jacket could be cleaned down and repaired at another time. He felt more naked without that than without the shirt. His blood was darker than humans, and more a reddish orange than a true red. It didn't smell coppery either. Hopefully that would confuse any preditory animals.

The Doctor stood, a bit shakily, and retrieved both the jumper as well as the jacket, tucking the bit of bloodied wood into the ruined jumper. No need to over-advertise the trap had scored a hit.

"When we do stop, I'm going to look and seem dead. I won't be, and I'd appriciate skipping any sort of premature burial, ta. My temperature will plummet, and I might even get a bit frosty. Don't try to wake me, cause you won't be able to. I'm gonna pretty much be helpless while healing up."

Nope, not happy bout that at all, not with three unknowns in the group. But it couldn't be helped now.

Scott's eyebrows rose higher and higher as the Doctor described the outward indications of his healing trance. ("Frosty?" His healing processes are that endothermic?) Scott managed to hold his curiosity at bay for the moment. "I'll stay with you. If we hike any further and when we camp," he told the Doctor. That was a no-brainer. He wanted to study how the trance worked.

The Doctor's statement that he could walk another mile was all Dean needed to hear. Standing around burning daylight wasn't helping their situation any. He raised his voice so all could hear. "Doc says he's up to it, so let's get a move on. May, scout ahead. I'll take point. Sammy, you stick near Doc since you're even ganglier than him. Blaise has our six. Everyone else keep doing what you were doin'." Without waiting for agreement Dean strode to the front of the line. The sooner they put some distance between them and the traps and found a defensible area to camp, the better.

Over Hill, over Dale.. (overland crew)

[Faith] Options (tag open)

[Doctor] Options (tag open)

[Scott] Frosty? (tag Doctor, open)

[Dean] Move 'em out! (tag open)