Redsand Canyon it's awfully groovy seeing all the treasure and the booty

she was softer yet, but still the feralness in val's demeanor did not dissipate. he had spent a long time -- most of his short life at this point -- wayfaring. and one did not wayfare for long if they were not naturally skittish of every thing which came their way.

he followed anyway, his eyes drawn to the deep scars of red that marked the sands in long rakes and gouges. "i could fight." he murmured abstractedly, wondering what beast it was that carved its path among the canyons. "why do you need warriors?"