"No," Gretel agreed, gaze hard, "It's not cooking. Do you see structures ahead? Buildings?" If it was a village, even something small and rough-hewn as the place they'd come from, the smell of this much smoke was a bad sign. Gretel had survived a village fire. Once one building caught, the rest were inevitable.
There wasn't enough water here to stop it, and they'd yet to see any other people.
Fingers strayed to a gun and away, almost a compulsive check, and Gretel tipped her chin up. "If there's been a big fire, we haven't seen anyone fleeing it. That's not good."