Cameron had followed on the footsteps of Ares and would have gotten there before Bellatrix had his cat not followed him. Lately, she'd been racing after everyone but him and now she was keeping perfect tabs on him wherever he actually went. Which meant that he arrived at the cottage a few minutes later than he'd have liked, though he failed to complain. He apologized quickly to their leader, diverting his eyes as all before him had, and quickly took his seat beside Ares, sliding him a look that his best mate was sure to understand. Something had happened. While he didn't know what the Dark Lord had planned for them, Cameron wanted to get through it as quickly as possible.
He didn't speak a word, but he noticed the set up. Seven tarps, breathing, seven. One for each of them. The ingredients that had been hard to come by were offered up to the Dark Lord as soon as they were requested, Cameron lifted them as if his hands were a tray, hoping that this man decided to be lenient with them all that night. The danger of it all. He had so many to protect and though his heart beat as sure as it always did, he was convincing himself not to flinch over the cold fingers that would pass over his skin as the ingredients were lifted from his hands.
He was grateful when the man was happy, leaning back in his seat again, his arm touching his friend's enough to know that they both were indifferent. They had to be.