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

shoko tried to keep his mind occupied on the game ahead of them. it did little to the mind to be paranoid; he might think this cerise brute and his light-footed ghost were to dispose of him, but he must never show it.

he kept his face unreadable, feeling the burn of the man's icy gaze. they followed the tracks easily, every bent reed openly betraying the sheep's progress.

"clarion heights." shoko answered forthright, an ear turned behind him as he heard rather than saw tamar bring up the rear. "directly south of here." he added, as if anyone might know his homeland. truth be told, he doubted it - for every beast had their own name for the pristine mountain range that slouched just below kintla valley. "yourself?" in due time he might inquire of tamar's heritage, but shoko got the impression she did not want to be here, and likely would dislike any attention brought upon herself.

meanwhile, satsu faded from view.