Swamped

"My guess? It came from the desert, like I did. And the bees. And probably other things I don't know about. Oh, and for what it's worth, we've been getting harsher winds than I've ever seen over the last few days, and we found some dead things that look more like swimmers than desert beasts. So whatever's going on seems to be going in both directions."

"Really," Razor says, looking thoughtful. "Crosswinds, what do you think about that theory?"

"Can't rule it out, but if it came here through the desert, we've got an even bigger problem," Crosswinds replies. "I made plenty of campfires on my way here, and that was no campfire. That was meant to burn slowly. So either someone planted it there on this side, or someone knew it'd wind up in our base."

"So we either have a saboteur on base, or there's someone in the desert who can send things wherever they want. I find a saboteur much more likely, and my options are to believe that this grebling you've found did it; that one of the Bogknight prisoners managed to slip out and plant it; or that one of us planted a fire under the floorboards." Razor steps closer; Crosswinds stands between the two of you, but you're not confident in your chances if Razor presses the issue. "So. Do you have any proof for this theory that the fire came from the desert? Or at least, that it wasn't you who planted it?"

That's a hard question. How are you going to answer it?