Blacktail Deer Plateau feed them on your dreams.

Denial. They had not seen anyone, or maybe they lied; Mou didn't have the heart to doubt them and instead, deflated.

She is small and dark, with some red if you see her in the daylight. He spoke quickly, his words occasionally whistling or turning breathy in his haste. Though the throat wound he sported was a scar from long ago, Mou's voice could still be affected.

He turned from the stranger then, giving them more space.

Sorry for.. disturbing you. He murmurs, drawing further away.