Dark canvas tents dotted the snow like ominous shadows, each lit by a single lantern that cast dancing shapes across the ice. Wooden crates and metal barrels formed loose barricades around fire pits, which sputtered with dying embers. Every gust of wind sent sparks flaring, momentarily brightening the gloom.
Nolan crept along the outer perimeter, making his way behind stacks of supply crates. He pressed his body flat, each breath shallow, when he heard muffled voices nearby. Occasionally, a pirate stomped past, boots crunching on the snow, forcing him to halt until the patrol faded into darkness.