As Rowan tied the mouths of the leather bags and finished packing, the wind suddenly shifted, blowing up from the valley. Rowan suddenly smelled a pungent scent of rot drifting on the breeze, snaking through the leaves.
He hadn't smelled it before, but now the scent hit Rowan's nose directly - thick and substantial, carrying the stench of long-dead cadaver fluid. It made Rowan's stomach contract violently; gastric juices rose, and he felt intensely nauseous.
Rowan wrinkled his nose, waving a hand in front of his face as if to dispel the toxic air: "What's decomposing to smell this bad? It's like a ton of rotten meat has been sealed up for a month. Horrible."
"A beast's carcass. Let me go take a look." Owen also smelled it; Owen's expression changed, his eyes narrowing with vigilance. Owen worried that a certain disgusting creature might have appeared - the kind of animal every beastman wanted to stay away from.
