The man she's been assigned to explore with smells like metal. She isn't even sure how. The kitchen knives explain some of it, but the rest of it is more like an aura surrounding him. Like... like... ozone before a storm? That's as close as she can come to it. It's an odd sensation to have shoved up her nostrils so forcefully.

Brigid fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, following him into the woods. The smell of burnt plants still lingers in the air. It won't go away until there's a good hard rain to wash clean the air.

"The game isn't going to come back for a while." She knows that. She can smell the burned animals that got caught. Her eyes trace the trails that she can still see amongst the foliage that is intact. The chittering of the birds overhead comforts her.

She isn't carrying a kitchen knife. She's uncomfortable with them and pretty sure it's more deadly to her than any opponent she comes across.