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You cover your nose with your sleeve and turn away from the carcass. Irian has regained consciousness, and is quick to begin scooping out some Baknar oil for himself.
The light is fading fast and you decide to pitch camp here for the night. After a meal has been prepared and eaten, you volunteer to sit watch, in case the Baknar should decide to return. Spending a sleepless night huddled against the cold night winds seems infinitely preferable to sharing a tent with your guides stinking of Baknar oil.
