Redsand Canyon oeuf.

Speak of the devil. He looked more at-home in the woods, especially so due to the layers of shadow, but now that she looked upon him in the midday light with red dust surrounding him he looked... Average. She could make out more of the details to his coat. The strange patterning, the heft of his shoulders, the curl of his raised tail. Stryx was given a second chance to size him up, and was just as cautious as before.

He swaggered closer and when he finally stopped, he called to her. She rolls her shoulders in a shrug. Could say the same for you. Given that your companion nearly decapitated my patient in defence of that forest, I wonder what could drive you from it. But it didn't take a genius to estimate the fallout of such behaviour. Someone hadn't taken kindly to it. Perhaps Praimfaya had gone back with reinforcements and retaliated.

Fools - the lot of them. As soon as they were patched up, they'd go at it again. Waste of her efforts, really, but she had her vows.

I'm doing what I always do. Roam, survive, tend to the wounded. Did you leave any behind, I wonder...? Her brow raises. There is a subtle mirth to her tone but she isn't in a laughing mood; the images of a bloody Praimfaya rise up in her memory, and whatever curiosity she held upon finding this empty place evaporates.