Shy Deer Steppes in the junkyard, it's every dog for himself.

as the man spoke he was calm, not at all cautious from what satsu could discern. she took the time to study his face, though she avoided looking him straight on, as a habit that hadn't fully departed her.
her smile lengthened.
perhaps i could-- she began, in time for tamar to slink in to view, out of breath. sides heaving and shoulders drooped.
satsu glanced her way and her jaw tensed. an idea struck the woman when she saw the servant and in the next moment she was calling out, @Arsenio, i have a task for you.
somewhere in the morning's ether was the red-coat, watching, she presumed. whether he was near enough to heed her was another matter. satsu stood there waiting, trying not to be impatient before the traveler.