Hideaway Strath Synapses Snap Back in Blissful Anguish

As far as the dog was aware, only two major mountain ranges bordered the desert basin, anchoring it like bookends in the barren stretch of land. He knew the eastern ridges well from his travels with Akashingo nobility, however, not the westward range that he now knew himself to be trapped in. This was unknown territory, though not as wholly unfamiliar as before. A minor revelation, but enough to offer a faint sense of grounding.

A flicker of hope crossed his features as he weighed his options, and he leaned forward, words poised at the edge of his tongue. Yet, as if in warning, the sound of multiple paws thudding against the ground silenced him.

He turned, offering a cordial smile as he met the eyes of the disciples, projecting an easy, practiced charm. Lovely, just set it down here. Thank you—much appreciated, loves, he murmured, a touch of warmth in his tone as he gestured with a wave.

Then, turning his attention back to Zitari, his gaze sharpened. My business is my own, Machiavelli replied, his voice an unhurried, velvet drawl, like someone adjusting their cuffs. You've upheld your end of the transaction wonderfully, so I bid you eat your fill. If this is not enough to sate you, you only need ask for more, he finished, passing a berry between his splotched lips.