The depth of the forest made movement hard for Devon. Around him, the strangest of sounds could be heard. The sounds of a goat-like gurgling screech off in the distance. The distinct sound of a satyr. But in the thick of the forest, finding out where the sound came from was quite hard. Devon would have to look better, find some way to find the Satyr now he was close.

Another call sounded. Equally blood-chilling in its unnaturalness. It seemed to be coming roughly north from him.

Being careful proved valuable. As he moved further north, the tracks of hooves became apparent in a patch of mud. These creatures definitely were close. But it seemed they had not settled down yet, as there were no signs of their typical small huts to be seen. That was, until Devon came upon what seemed to be the remains of a firepit. Still smoking, but no one present. If these Satyr's were going to gather, it would be here.

Devon hid himself in a bush nearby. Not the best spot, but then again Devon wasn't the sneakiest person in the world. He stayed there, and had to for quite some time. But after about half an hour, movement could be hear. It was somewhere behind him.

Devon turned slowly, but was instinctly halted by the rustling of leaves his turning created. Right now, moving could get him spotted. It was a good thing he did it slowly, or he may not have taken note quickly enough.

The sound of hooves slowly walking past behind him sounded well.

Whatever was behind him passed. He was safe for now. Another few minutes passed, before the first Satyr finally came in sight. It seemed malnourished, and was carrying some wood which it dropped onto the fire place. After which it bent down and started to work on getting a fire place ready. It wasn't attempting to light a fire though.

On it's side lay a hatchet, made from some hacked-at stone and a stick. Crude, but it worked for them.