...the Freeholders weren’t expecting them: the main body stopped as soon as they saw the tents (no scouts out apparently), and Morgan saw some sort of commotion through his binoculars. He couldn’t hear them, of course, but Morgan figured he could guess the conversation from context.
Let’s see… The asshole wearing a football helmet is probably telling the tough guy with no sleeves and a hockey mask that there’s a lot of those shithead militia guys here, boss, so let’s maybe change the plan. But the weedy dude with a weasel face and a sex offender goatee is waving back to… maybe the wagons? and he’s telling Sleeveless something while trying real hard not to poke Sleeveless in the chest. Now he’s pointing at the tents, and says something that makes Asshole QB puff up and pull his sword half out of his sheath, only Sleeveless says something that makes ‘em both shut up. He’s saying something else — Asshole QB doesn’t like it, Weasophile does, and… ah, praise Jesus: the Freeholders are now advancing, all stealthy-like. And heading right for our empty tents.
Man, the paperwork’s gonna be real fun on replacing all that camping gear.