Mind scrambled for a plan. Time was short. The dark robed beings circled the fire, chanting words in a language unfamiliar to me.
Damnit.
I looked at the ground, a broken branch laid at my knees. There must be at least ten of these. A broken branch is no good. Think!
I peeled back the leaves blocking my view; Adam twisted and writhed his muscular body against its restraints but couldn't break their hold. The chanting intensified, from the edge of the woods and behind the tree another figure emerged, dragging a goat on the ground, a noose around its neck, forcing it next to Adam before tying it to the tree. The goat bellowed and tried to kick but its legs were bound tight. I flashed to TV show I once saw. Ancient tribes believed that burnt offerings released the spirit of the animal bound by its flesh.