Heron Lake Plateau triple shot espresso

He had been hunting for a while now with nothing to show for it except a bad attitude, but he knew if he kept on trying he would find something eventually. It wasn't hope that drew him away from the familiarity of the coastal pools, more like spite. See how long his crew could survive without him he thought; but it was safer this way. It was wise, and one thing Yutani could rarely call himself was wise. He didn't want to fight with the asshole any longer than he had to, not when there were more pressing matters to focus on, like food and the lack of it. Leaving was the only way to go—and if nothing else, cutting ties was easy.

The further he went from the beaches and the sea, the more prolific the green became. Most of it had withered in the cold. Still, there was a swamp-like quality to the cold waters further north of this place which left him streaked with mud and otherwise uncomfortable. He wasn't one to complain; mud, blood, guts, glory—it was all the same to him. A big old mess, but one he'd prefer to be submerged in. It felt good most of the time.

When Yutani's path crossed from half-frozen bogland to this plateau he didn't know what to think, really. It was high and dry, sure. But there wasn't much to look at. Some trees clustered in various places and the smell of fresh water leading him further—but nothing to hunt at first look. What was it about this place that drove all the food away? Ah hell, I should'a done the whole surf'n'turf thing when the crew was still around. He voiced to the empty air with a subtle eye-flick to the sky, which glowered back in shades of grey. The man grunted to himself, full of disdain for his short-sighted reaction to the takeover by Tillamook; it was the same aspect which made Yutani doubt the little demon, loathe him even, and disperse from the company of his fellow hunters. Now look at him! 

He roams as he thinks, glaring at the road ahead as the most obvious path wrapped itself around (and in some ways through) a thicket. There is a lack of enthusiasm to Yutani's already naturally grim face. He's scowling a bit as he comes around one bend and begins to hike up a stony incline when he catches a whiff of something foreign, but alluring, intriguing. He pauses his long stride to look around but, at first, sees nothing but the red of fallen leaves and the trembling of various trees against a stormy sky; then, something moves.

The fulvous color of her coat is almost as dark-red as some of the leaf piles. That's what he tells himself as he finds the stranger standing at the top of the hill, overlooking the rest of the plateau. The scowl vanishes immediately; he can recognize a pretty girl's shape even if he's missing his eyes. He can make out the contour of her hips and the bushiness of her tail and draws closer, the scowl replaced with a smugness taught to him by the pirates of home.

With a cough to clear his throat, he tries to get her attention. Whether he's successful or not, Yutani's brooding voice calls out: And what's a little lady like you doin' in a po-dunk place like this, huh? He's quite proud of himself for finding something, even if he'd rather be eating some well earned food, girls were a good substitute for his varied appetites.