Redsand Canyon Let the jetstream carry me.

Glaukos returned from his extended solo training late in the afternoon. He was muddy, smelling of salt, and clearly tired after his ordeal but did not slow his progress as he marched by the civilian quarters, onward to the barracks.

He intended to get a bite to eat and some rest, both of equally high priority to him, and didn't even think to bathe. His coat was tangled along his throat and across his broad shoulders; but he was uninjured, and appeared to be in high spirits.

As he entered the barracks he noted a few scents he did not recognize.