"I reckon you're right," Dolores agrees grimly and tosses another one of the dried bundles of corn stalks onto the body. The corpses don't have much by the way of clothing, but they seem to catch fire a bit more readily than they should. Dolores isn't sure why and every time she thinks on it, her mind skips to another track.

"At least it'll be warm," she hedges and looks at the man beside her. He's very tall. Her vision skips over his skin tone, his strange features, even his hor--well he's just someone from farther off than she's used to. Maybe he's one of those city folk.

"Thanks for the help. I ain't looking forward to making the signals, but building the fire's going to be the worst of it."