SOMETHING'S NOT RIGHT by lorddarke1
Both freeze, going to ground, disapearing into the dense undergrowth surrounding them.
"I don't like this..." signs Mitzi.
"Yeah, can you say 'trap'" from Dutch pointing to the rotting carcass of a Vord crumpled over an open hatch.
They can smell the rank, overwhelming odor from the Vord, as well as the slight variance of two other Vord somewhere in the bowels of the stricken craft. But there was another scent, faint and unknown to either of them, but much fresher.
"Not an animal. There's a smell of tooled leather and metal," signs Mitzi.