Redsand Canyon the day pressed on like crushing weights

Laughter was not something he expected from Aventus. It was sharp and grating to his ears. Sivugat was glad that it was not laughter meant for himself, or that's what he hoped, and as it dwindled there came more words. These he latched on to. There was a crack at the end, teeth clattering as Aventus shut his mouth.

The bruin-jaw implored Sivugat for answers.

She went north. That was all he really knew anyway. He hadn't followed her and held not intention of doing so. He did not consider this undermining his leader in any way, despite that being the obvious truth of the answer. As soon as Nyra had decided to flee instead of fight, Sivugat had given up on her. His lack of faith was her own doing, he reasoned.

It was not too long ago. She, and her followers, are still somewhere within the range. They might return to gather supplies before they've settled. It was the most he'd ever said to Aventus. A second later, after hesitating to think through the names of the Saints that he knew, he could divulge one more clue: There is no Saint by that name. Donovan. Who is that?