The questions were all very straightforward.
What did she overhear? When did Nabi leave?
Skepticism and hostility met Tserende when he arrived at the stall. While it was an inconvenience that he did not appreciate, he could not bear the woman any ill will over it. He knew that she meant well, and was only concerned at the apparent strangeness of events. It took time. However, with persistence, Tserende felt he would erode some of the mistrust the woman had for him. Fortunate for both himself and Nabi, he was correct in this assumption.
The information that he coaxed from the older woman did not leave him surprised. Nabi had left in a hurry to find him somewhere out in the grasslands, incapacitated and shot. Unable to move. It did not take his mind long to piece the parts together. Despite his certainty in the matter, the cold, weighty numbness which took root in the pit of his stomach was unmistakable. Worry? Or the knowledge that he had grown a bit too comfortable, and a bit too complacent. There was no immediate answer for what he could have done different to prevent it. He was certain there was something, though.Â
He had half a mind to interrogate the one who delivered the message. After a cursory glance over the boy, he dismissed the idea. He doubted that they knew any more than he had already learned, much less the true intentions behind the arrangement. It would not have done any good. There was little time to waste anyways, and he made haste towards the sea.
The journey to the Steppes was a brisk and silent one, providing adequate time for Tserende's ruminations. None of them brought him any peace of mind. If anything was definite, it was that he was without a doubt his own worst critic. He was also more than proficient at envisioning the worst when it came to things he was uncertain of. None of this eased the tightly wound knot in his stomach, or the white-knuckled grip he held the reigns of the chocobo with.
The cold, bitter sting of rain pelting across his face brought him out of his ruminations. Tserende's feathered companion carried them along the river-way of the Steppes. Heavy, plodding, and with all the grace of mammoth. He had spent a fair amount of time over the years traveling, yet there was something which bothered him now. He had never spent the time to learn how to track something. The idea had never seemed as important as it did now, and he was learning very quick to regret neglecting it.
He found nothing upon his initial sweep along either path he had expected them to take into the area. He found nothing on the second or third pass, either. If finding Nabi out here was to be a test of his patience, it was doing a fine job of it. Drenched, cold, and tired, he could only imagine the state she must be in by now. It was not until he traveled further up the streams that something... peculiar caught his attention. He had no doubt in his mind over the fact that he stumbled across the clue by mere chance. That fact did nothing to diminish the relief it brought though.
The odd, discolored patches across the stones was quick develop into a path for him to follow. First the green coloring, and then the cigarettes which he found trickling down stream -- it may not have been much to some. The fragrant mix within the cigarettes was something he could immediately place, however. Mint mingled with the tobacco. With renewed energy and vigor, he followed the stream to the cavernous cliff-faces, searching them one by one.
What he found upon entering the second cavern brought him some measure of relief. There was no blood, and Nabi appeared to all be there -- albeit a bit scrapped up and bruised, and no doubt drenched from the rain. No culprit was to be found on the scene however, nobody to blame for the cause of it all. That was something which he would have to deal with later. For now, his priorities were very simple.Â
Get her back to her home. Once that was taken care of, he would have time to ponder over a solution for the one responsible. While he was not without his immediate impulses, he was all too aware it was something best approached with a clear mind. That was something which would come after a night or two of rest.
What did she overhear? When did Nabi leave?
Skepticism and hostility met Tserende when he arrived at the stall. While it was an inconvenience that he did not appreciate, he could not bear the woman any ill will over it. He knew that she meant well, and was only concerned at the apparent strangeness of events. It took time. However, with persistence, Tserende felt he would erode some of the mistrust the woman had for him. Fortunate for both himself and Nabi, he was correct in this assumption.
The information that he coaxed from the older woman did not leave him surprised. Nabi had left in a hurry to find him somewhere out in the grasslands, incapacitated and shot. Unable to move. It did not take his mind long to piece the parts together. Despite his certainty in the matter, the cold, weighty numbness which took root in the pit of his stomach was unmistakable. Worry? Or the knowledge that he had grown a bit too comfortable, and a bit too complacent. There was no immediate answer for what he could have done different to prevent it. He was certain there was something, though.Â
He had half a mind to interrogate the one who delivered the message. After a cursory glance over the boy, he dismissed the idea. He doubted that they knew any more than he had already learned, much less the true intentions behind the arrangement. It would not have done any good. There was little time to waste anyways, and he made haste towards the sea.
The journey to the Steppes was a brisk and silent one, providing adequate time for Tserende's ruminations. None of them brought him any peace of mind. If anything was definite, it was that he was without a doubt his own worst critic. He was also more than proficient at envisioning the worst when it came to things he was uncertain of. None of this eased the tightly wound knot in his stomach, or the white-knuckled grip he held the reigns of the chocobo with.
The cold, bitter sting of rain pelting across his face brought him out of his ruminations. Tserende's feathered companion carried them along the river-way of the Steppes. Heavy, plodding, and with all the grace of mammoth. He had spent a fair amount of time over the years traveling, yet there was something which bothered him now. He had never spent the time to learn how to track something. The idea had never seemed as important as it did now, and he was learning very quick to regret neglecting it.
He found nothing upon his initial sweep along either path he had expected them to take into the area. He found nothing on the second or third pass, either. If finding Nabi out here was to be a test of his patience, it was doing a fine job of it. Drenched, cold, and tired, he could only imagine the state she must be in by now. It was not until he traveled further up the streams that something... peculiar caught his attention. He had no doubt in his mind over the fact that he stumbled across the clue by mere chance. That fact did nothing to diminish the relief it brought though.
The odd, discolored patches across the stones was quick develop into a path for him to follow. First the green coloring, and then the cigarettes which he found trickling down stream -- it may not have been much to some. The fragrant mix within the cigarettes was something he could immediately place, however. Mint mingled with the tobacco. With renewed energy and vigor, he followed the stream to the cavernous cliff-faces, searching them one by one.
What he found upon entering the second cavern brought him some measure of relief. There was no blood, and Nabi appeared to all be there -- albeit a bit scrapped up and bruised, and no doubt drenched from the rain. No culprit was to be found on the scene however, nobody to blame for the cause of it all. That was something which he would have to deal with later. For now, his priorities were very simple.Â
Get her back to her home. Once that was taken care of, he would have time to ponder over a solution for the one responsible. While he was not without his immediate impulses, he was all too aware it was something best approached with a clear mind. That was something which would come after a night or two of rest.
