The scarf that usually hides her coppery hair lies around her neck, a loose collar of twisted cloth. Azi walks by from the north, observing the night's activities the way one curious about the world would. Spotting August, he takes a bit more care to manuever silently across the sleeping man's front. Shifting eyes though, spot Catherine coming up from the encampment and he slips into a shadow to watch. Outside, Heavy clouds create a sky as dark as pitch.
Nothing breaks through from the heavens.
With a hot wind from the north, the deepening shade of evening seems cheerless and ominously threatening. August coughs his way through a phlegmy snore, shifting a little in place. She pulls open the door of the outpost with a practiced jerk, and slips inside. Azi glances up as Catherine enters the outpost, and arches a curious brow as he observes the drunk's possible reaction. August comes round once more at the sound of Catherine's bootsteps on the elevated wood of the porch, tracking her out of the corner of one eye.