Lion Head Mesa tempus frangit

The last thing Reyes wanted to do was visit this place, but he knew it was habitable and well stocked with all manner of supplies. He knew too, that he'd royally fucked up the last time he'd come this way — but Brecheliant was at least two days hard march away from here, and he wasn't in a good enough state to make it, which Reyes was painfully aware of.

He'd pushed himself to get this far. There had been help - some from healers, some from strangers - and with such a short distance to go, he was mightily tempted to say fuck it and push onward. His wound was still infected; there had been treatments and attempts, but he was so focused on returning home that the poultices hadn't lasted long. It was his own fault. Reyes knew he should've been careful.

The man weighed his options. He could've probably lasted another couple of hours before the pains of his body got the better of him. He hadn't eaten anything in quite a while, and the lack of fresh water was spiraling him through a migraine and in to delirium.

He needed mending, and food, and a decent night of sleep. He was so close to home now that he was mightily tempted to continue on, fate be damned - but as he crossed along the outskirts of Akashingo's claim he found himself too desperate to continue. He was gritting his teeth against the pain of each step by the time he was forced to stop, slouching in to the sand.

In the distance was the palace where Reyes knew he wasn't welcome.