Redsand Canyon down and out over the mount

:D tysm

Understood. Idle curiosity. Nothing about this felt idle to him. Then again, he hadn't felt anything like it in a long time. He wonders if he was born this way: constantly turning himself around and over, picking at scabs and at the scalp, picking himself clean down to the bone, through to the marrow. And one day, there would be nothing left.

"No. He did with you?" He asks, but he already knows. "Wait. Forgive me. I just remembered."

Her implication sits in his mind; he wants it out. It has disregarded the lock on his doors and walked in, boots caked with mud, all over on the coffee table. He can't bear it. "I will fight if I have to. Back there, if that woman had-" he searches for the word, "-escalated it, I would've fought." 

"You don't believe me." He starts off with a questioning tone, but halfway through, it loses all inflection. The hybrid sentence skitters along the floor until it dies at her feet.