Blacktail Deer Plateau Sometimes you're the train, sometimes you're the track

Dante confirmed the duo may have been Fox and her daughter, and that was enough for Malachi. Their behaviour clicked, their reserve upon approaching him and their sudden leave. They'd dismissed themselves right after he'd mentioned his allegiance to the Plateau, and the fact which had been trivial before became more than coincidence now.

Malachi caught the gravity behind Dante's question, and he shook his head to reassure his leader that nothing more than conversation had transpired. "They were wary and on guard, but other than that," he shrugged, and deflected his gaze to the mountainside scarred with charcoaled trees, "I wouldn't have guessed they were at odds with us at all."

The whole matter still ruffled him, but Dante had given him a plethora of information to weigh, and for the time Malachi tucked his thoughts away. They'd carried themselves through the crumbling woods to the mountain at its rear, and Malachi shifted his attention to the tangible problem they faced. He tracked his gaze along the tree line that snaked up its face and hoped Dante would do the same. "This is the main area I'm concerned about," he inclined his head to peer further up and squinted against the glare of the sky. "Trees hold the mountainside and make it steady, but the fire damaged a lot of the forest here. That's not good news for us. Any heavy rains or falling trees and we could easily have a wash out." He frowned. If only there was more they could do. For now, they could only avoid this place and hope if the mountainside ever cascaded, none would be trapped in its slide.