Iktome Plains dead souls and a really big globe.

Artaax had no real thoughts about what he was doing, or what he would do next. He knew where he was headed, but was yet unaware of his purpose in going there. He knew who he was looking for, but what did he want with them? His mind was a seemingly endless abyss of heartache and anger with the truths about his situation playing over and over and over again to an unwilling audience. Not that it particularly mattered - he had never been one to carefully consider his actions prior to taking them, no matter how important it seemed that he do so. He was obedient to his instincts, and these drove him South towards some inevitability that he would simply meet when it came.

It was an hour or so before he saw her. She was a red blip on a white canvas with a line of dark trees at her back. It remained unclear to him what his purpose here was - after all, what purpose did he have anywhere anymore with her gone - but he drew a straight line in the snow and headed towards her with an almost feverish intensity, never knowing what would happen when the distance separating them ran out and their paths collided.