Three weeks ago, a minor earthquake occurred in a sparsely populated, mountainous region of the far west. With no buildings damaged, no need for imperial aid, that would have been the end of it.
Two weeks ago, reports reached Blood Pledge of houseki washing down into low-lying rivers.
Gwendal hasn't stopped feeling like he's fighting off the beginning of an migraine since he got here, but maybe that's being stuck negotiating between army mining engineers and the local leadership (that have heard of Yuuri, of course), who both have very different ideas about what should happen next.
He's almost glad to see Yozak's pigeon perched on his tent-pole, just for the excuse to get away. Gwendal's horse has no difficulty with the terrain, and he's at the bluff the note specified exactly on time. He can't see Yozak, or another horse, but somehow, Gwendal doubts he's alone.
"What am I here to see?"
Without any other sound, Yozak's hands fall on Gwendal's shoulders from behind, turning him to face the canyon below, the evening sky shading black through blue through red, the colour melding into the exposed planes of the rock.
"Mm, I was thinking you might enjoy the view."