The forlorn filly on Jasmines back simply gave her a sad look and a small nod. She was clearly traumatized and still reeling from the loss of her friends and family, but was holding it together for now. Cinnamon was likely to have been permanently scarred by the experience, and it would probably haunt her for the rest of her life. The pain would fade with time, but it would never leave her.
Sanctity, meanwhile, chose a good time to turn away from the conversation and focus on the trail again. buried in the dirt in front of him was an old pre-war mine, only noticeable because some of the dirt covering it had been washed away. The ghouls had been incredibly lucky not to set it off. After Crackle swooped down to examine it, the group decided to just leave it be and go around. The griffin didn't want to risk tampering with it, and returned to his position above the party.
As the day went on, the two airborne members of the group would notice the plume of dust in the distance drawing a bit closer. By the time the sun began to set and the glow coming through the eternal overcast began to fade, it looked like it had reached the remnants of the caravan. The two couldn't be sure of it due to the fading light, but it looked like the plume had dispersed. Crackle assumed that whatever was making it had stopped to pillage what little loot was left.
Not long after, the group came across a good site to make camp for the night: a pair of old, decrepit skywagons, never to fly again. One had apparently crashed, the crumpled frame sticking up out of the wasteland from a small, water-filled crater. The vehicle looked like it had nosedived right into the dirt, standing close to vertical with the front embedded in the ground. Its cargo, which seemed to mostly consist of barrels of strange rainbow-coloured goo, had been ejected in the crash. Most had landed in or around the cater, turning the water there a distinctly unhealthy shade of sickly orange. Despite Jasmine's pipbuck ticking rapidly when she wandered near, Jackpot decided to stay a safe distance away. He recognised the rainbow fluid as taint, and wanted nothing to do with it. A short distance away was a second skywagon, this one intact. The skeleton of a pegasus still hung limply in the harness. The paint on the side was mostly worn away, but a symbol matching one of the ones on the barrels of goo could still be seen, as well as a few military emblems. It had been thoroughly scavenged, however, and all that was left inside was a pair of tattered yellow environmental suits and some assorted junk. Only the most skilled craftspony could manage to salvage a passable suit [Requires 80 repair] from the ragged remains. However, it was defendable, big enough for all of them, and, perhaps most importantly, the roof hadn't yet rusted through. The darkening clouds hung low overhead, laden with moisture, and nopony (or griffin) wanted to try and sleep in the rain. The party decided to make camp here, with the (relatively) intact skywagon serving as a passable shelter.
Sanctity, meanwhile, chose a good time to turn away from the conversation and focus on the trail again. buried in the dirt in front of him was an old pre-war mine, only noticeable because some of the dirt covering it had been washed away. The ghouls had been incredibly lucky not to set it off. After Crackle swooped down to examine it, the group decided to just leave it be and go around. The griffin didn't want to risk tampering with it, and returned to his position above the party.
As the day went on, the two airborne members of the group would notice the plume of dust in the distance drawing a bit closer. By the time the sun began to set and the glow coming through the eternal overcast began to fade, it looked like it had reached the remnants of the caravan. The two couldn't be sure of it due to the fading light, but it looked like the plume had dispersed. Crackle assumed that whatever was making it had stopped to pillage what little loot was left.
Not long after, the group came across a good site to make camp for the night: a pair of old, decrepit skywagons, never to fly again. One had apparently crashed, the crumpled frame sticking up out of the wasteland from a small, water-filled crater. The vehicle looked like it had nosedived right into the dirt, standing close to vertical with the front embedded in the ground. Its cargo, which seemed to mostly consist of barrels of strange rainbow-coloured goo, had been ejected in the crash. Most had landed in or around the cater, turning the water there a distinctly unhealthy shade of sickly orange. Despite Jasmine's pipbuck ticking rapidly when she wandered near, Jackpot decided to stay a safe distance away. He recognised the rainbow fluid as taint, and wanted nothing to do with it. A short distance away was a second skywagon, this one intact. The skeleton of a pegasus still hung limply in the harness. The paint on the side was mostly worn away, but a symbol matching one of the ones on the barrels of goo could still be seen, as well as a few military emblems. It had been thoroughly scavenged, however, and all that was left inside was a pair of tattered yellow environmental suits and some assorted junk. Only the most skilled craftspony could manage to salvage a passable suit [Requires 80 repair] from the ragged remains. However, it was defendable, big enough for all of them, and, perhaps most importantly, the roof hadn't yet rusted through. The darkening clouds hung low overhead, laden with moisture, and nopony (or griffin) wanted to try and sleep in the rain. The party decided to make camp here, with the (relatively) intact skywagon serving as a passable shelter.