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Sackcloth Well... Not like he had any better ideas. Sighing heavily, Sackcloth moves to get to his feet and follows Red quietly along.

Sackcloth

Sackcloth "Not if you ask me..." Sackcloth grumbles as he passes near Sage, moving to stop by the ladder, in the shadow of the ship's hull. Wrapping his cloak tight around himself, he retreats into it and slides down the side of the curved exterior wall until his butt rests in the corner it...

Sackcloth The first thing Zach sees of Sackcloth is the brownie's head hanging low between his shoulders. Not alarmed, not angry... Gloomy, perhaps. Confused. Maybe even upset or disappointed. Occasionally it turns into a scowl as he grinds his pebble teeth across one of his lips, clearly...

Sackcloth At Hood's remark, the brownie gives a casual roll of his eyes; any disdain rolls off his back with it, at least from Hood. When it comes from Red, however, the intimation of disapproval comes with a rather notable step towards him and curled fist that makes the bogun flinch backwards...

Sackcloth Watching the whole display brings a small wave of relief to the brownie. At the moment, more from the gladness that his home is safe than of any true joy at children being able to go home, but that joy will come in time, probably around the same time as the guilt for hitting one of...

Sackcloth Otherwise silent, the puppet watches the children closely, turning over his hammer in his hand. It's Hood who speaks up first and gets the brownie's attention particularly in the process. Looking back at all the children, he thinks of their grubby little fingers and muddy feet...

Sackcloth "Correction," the brownie reminds them, holding up the weighty implement, "I am an asshole with a steel hammer and surprisingly effective aim." Reminder given, Sackcloth then gives a deferential glance towards Red, letting fearless leader be the one to speak with them.

Sackcloth Sackcloth sees. He drops the rock in favour of his trusty hammer and turns about slowly to put the tree to his back, in hopes of limiting the range of possible ambush routes. "Right you are, Master Red..." Sackcloth nods in agreement, trying to get a count on numbers and on whether...

Sackcloth Sackcloth watches the fuzzy figure fall into Hood's waiting arms with a leveled stare, a frown on his cloth lips. He glances down at the third rock in his hand, then back at the boy, then back at the rock, then at Hood, then at the rock, then at Red, then at the rock, then back at...

Sackcloth Bursting out of the thorn-bushes, covered in prickers, Sackcloth is hardly looking any more cheerful for the chase. Hammer in hand, he is the last to exit the briars and probably the most furious looking one in the group. Incredibly frustrated by it all, he picks up the nearest heavy...

Sackcloth The puppet's song is interrupted by a sudden screech as his violin strikes a false note and comes to a halt, forced to attention by Red just walking away and running off like a madman. The brownie looks almost upset, glancing between the fleeing beast, the chasing Beast, and the...

Sackcloth Well, that was a setback. Just the same, Sackcloth knows his way around a market and what words might make a man or beast bend. Tugging on the binding that holds his violin and its bow, the little brownie spins it around and gives it a look-over to see if it is alright. Thankfully...

Sackcloth Everyone having moved on to the ship, Sackcloth keeps his distance a moment before he finds holding back not worth the trouble and moves to follow. He listens to the various arguments, carefully trying to put back on what's left of his cloak and picking out any little splinters he...

Sackcloth Well. That certainly was a thing. "Yes, that is a good question!" Sackcloth calls out from where he lays in a particularly thorny pricker bush, mostly shielded by his cloak valiantly throwing itself upon it so that he might live. "Why, indeed, is there a ship sailing on land in the...

Sackcloth Sackcloth's eyes drift up and down the way, glancing as people start taking the wire. He gives a nod to Zach at the thanks, even while inwardly wondering what possible reason might cause people to wrap it around their waistline while in a dense forest. This wasn't a ship, for pete's...

Sackcloth Bitter as a sour almond, Sackcloth glares at the pissing rain as if the adjective were literal. His fabric shell slowly changes colour under the growing deluge, turning a deeper shades as he absorbs the damp. Soldiering on, he marches even as the briar whips about and takes more...

Sackcloth At the first few droplets of rain, Sackcloth just gives a heavy sigh and soldiers on. Unbuttoning a pouch on his belt, he draws out a neatly folded weather poncho, which might have once been a simple and plain affair but now is a tatterdemalion possessed of the usual beauty such...

Sackcloth - Following Red "Decision's made!" Sackcloth calls back to Zach as he moves to follow Red out into the thorns. "Better or worse, hither or thither, at least blame the wolf instead of just dither." Sackcloth doesn't like the thorns. Doesn't like following creepy beasties, for that...