Alucard's turn to feed the fire. He has strictly more in his arms than would ever, ever be required, but it makes it easier for whoever comes next. The wood shall be in a nice pile for them, and they'll be spared the additional effort. So what if it limits his line of sight somewhat, and he misses that there's been a chair moved in the usual pathway from the woodpile near the door to the fire itself?

All he can see as he moves past whoever he just bumped into is a pair of feet at the moment.

"No matter," is all he says, shifting around and adjusting his path accordingly. The focus is the flame, not whoever's decided to make life more complicated.

Alucard crouches down, taking one of the iron pokers that dangles on a little stand besides the flame, and begins to move the dying embers around to make way for new logs. He's careful as he does so (long hair and fire do not make for good friends).

"That is the path everyone has been taking to replenish the fire though. Moving over just a hair would make it easier for whoever does this job next."