Morningside Cuesta enter, pursued by a memory

Oh, shit. Persia had expected some kind of defense. Most people said they were fine, or that they would be, and they did not make it his problem. This had frustrated him only occasionally — most of the time he figured he wouldn't want people butting in on his business either, were their positions reversed. But sometimes he'd been indignant, thinking to himself that they were clearly not good, and he'd just expected this to be one of those times.

Where were they meant to go from here?

Thankfully, the woman had the answer. Hunting. Him, helping. Which would be a flippant, sure, why not in almost every universe, except in this one, he was more alone than he had ever been in his life, with his mother's scent disappearing into the distance.

But fuck it, right? He was grown.

"'Kay," he agreed, coming just a little closer. Not close enough for her to flip out and bite him — he hadn't ruled out some kind of sickness just yet, alright? "So, what. Deer? We're gonna have to find a treeline somewhere. Know anyplace like that?"

This cuesta was shit, he thought. What was she doing here? Why would anyone wanna hang out here?