Rattleskin Redoubt I'll cry at the end of the day. Not with fresh makeup.

His ears perked with the sound of pawsteps and the thrumming feeling of solitude broken. Skips stopped in his tracks, reeling for a few seconds under the immediate weight of realization: not Aquillius. It was a stranger who disturbed his peace. The amiable chuff grated at his nerves. He was not feeling social. He rarely did.

He turned to look the stranger up and down with cold green eyes. Just a boy. Hey, Scipio greeted sullenly. You seen anyone around here? Any scrawny one-eyed fuckers? Aquillius. Where are you? Lost in a wasteland, leaving a breadcrumb trail of death for him to follow. And here was this random boy. At least he wasn't dead, too.