There is the gentle, clunking sound of footsteps someplace nearby. They seem to be careful and slow, daunting, as if hunting, with the path ahead wafting with the insolent stench of blood and copper.
There is no other sign of life, save for streaks of blood of the once-living. It's mostly old, but a few fresher bits of red are splattered about.
Then--the sound of tearing, like something being rendered apart.
A machine sits there on its knees, hands dug into a poor Filth, trying to seep in as much blood as it can from the small carcass. It looks...broken in some places, a few wires sparking and limbs not moving quite right.
(@machine-id-v1)
Layers above, the two beings make their way ever closer to the noise, unaware of the danger lurking right beneath their feet.
After all, if Vivere avoided every strange sound on their journey, they'd be far from the mouth of hell.
However, the thought of discovery was far too tempting for their own good...