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When Satyrus opened her eyes, slowly roused from dreamless sleep, there was fire.
A campfire, specifically. Mojave sat near it, occasionally twisting a line of lizards impaled on sticks.
Ah, of course. Her time alone could not last forever, there can not be holiness without devilishness.
She'd give herself the grace to mutter curses in her own head.
"Heretic, At least your cooking is worthwhile!"
"You're awake? Pity," she hmms back, "I hope you haven't assumed this is for you."
Satyrus scoffed, of course.
Of course, of course, of course.
"I got your necklace back," Mojave doesn't make eye contact as she says it.
She stood up, claws grasping at her own bare neck.
"You did?! How?! Where is it?!" She shouted, stepping forward.
"Satchel, found the drake who stole it and traded to get it back."
She leaped over to the satchel, scrambling through it for the necklace.
"Hey, easy!" Mojave shouted behind her, drivel.
She dragged out the pendant, holding it up into the light.
3 dark plates, lined with silver and gold to signify which Moons she was born under.
One crescent, one gibbous and the third and largest half full.
Nothing significant, but hers.
"Take the canteen and get some water while your over there."
She looked up at the sky, a single full Moon and two gibbous stared back at her.
Alongside millions of stars, something she had been spared in the hives.
"Sat?"
"Forgive me, I was distracted."
"Oh that's new," Mojave joked dismissively. She took the lizards from the fire and held one out, "Take it."
She looked down at the roasted reptile, waiting for the punchline.
But none came, by appearances she was offering all this out of some kindness.
Perhaps another vision?
"Look, Sat. I was joking earlier, my arm is getting tired. Take the damn lizard."
Satyrus did so, and moved to sit with her necklace.
Mojave said nothing, chewing silently, ignoring her stares.
It made little sense, of course. Even if they had admitted that they disliked her... so why act in gift to her?
Three times now, she had acted to help her. Water, her necklace, and now food as well.
"Heretic..?"
Said heretic sighed and looked up - still chewing.
"Why do this?"
She took dreadfully long to answer, prioritizing her eating. When she did it was casual, and dismissive, "Promised."
Which made little sense, of course.
She was a liar, that much was obvious. Breaking a promise should have little weight to her should it not?
"You don't care about promises."
"Yeah I'do" She replied again in similar tone.
Satyrus huffed, there truly was no understanding this fiend.
As such, she moved onto her own matters, sliding open her pendant to reveal a mirror.
And what a sight.
A terrible,
horrible,
sight.
Her makeup had been faded, had smudged, and was sandblasted across her. It was disgraceful! How could she stand to be seen like this?!
It would not do. It couldn't!
She forced around to find her satchel with her makeup kit.
She barely caught Mojave staring at her as she removed jewelry and wiped the blemished pigments off.
Good, may she rot with jealousy.
She focused on her mirror, on her flat orange reflection. She had very few black scales to break up her form, but that was okay.
Clearsight had blessed her in other ways, of course.
She took out and sorted through the various pigments powders and creams.
She had poor lighting, but she would make do.
She dipped a claw in the slick glue like smudge, and focused much more on herself then how it felt on her talons and scales. (bad, very bad.)
She traced the patterns that weren't there, but would be. Looked past what her scales where and what they could be, what was meant for Clearsight.
Quietly, she prayed.
She gave thanks, and muttered the familiar meditations that would relax the soul and ease the mind.
She took the powders and colored the patterns she had drawn dark and black in waves across her.
She took creams and put them on her lips and beak.
She glanced at the Moons and wondered if Clearsight was watching even here - of course she was.
She traced stars behind her eyes.
A final check with her mirror before she put her jewelry back on. She held it up and manipulated it to check for every angle, to assure her perfection.
She let out a breath, and relatched the necklace.
"I'd like to be flying out soon, just so you know."
She straightened her spine and looked down, "I'm not stopping you."
That scored a groan from her, and a direct serious look.
"I do not think you can make it more then a day out her Satyrus."
"You do know my name!"
Despite her teasing, Mojave continued, "You're terrible at taking care of yourself, overconfident, easy to manipulate, and that's not accounting your prophecies."
"Visions, not prophecies there is a Difference!" she yelled back.
Mojave inhaled harshly through her nose, "Right, everything else though?"
"I assure you, I am quite survivable."
"No, you aren't. You don't know how to make it out here, and dragons will take advantage of that."
"I'm not naive, heretic."
"No, certainly not!" she growled and raised talons as she counted off points, "But you are desperate to please, you have simple yet amorphous goals, and you don't have any background knowledge about here which means you can't tell when someones treating you respectfully or fleecing you!"
Insolence. Muck. She glared down at the sandwing and bit her tongue when she met it indifferent.
"I promised I'd lead you through the Sand Kingdom-"
"So leave after!"
She caught and tripped over words at the interruption, "-So... Ughh. You are difficult to talk to."
She flicked her head away and then bowed, "Forgive my lack of charisma, associate."
Mojave shook her head, "No, I think you're actually quite charismatic."
For once, she was graced with her companion actually elaborating without provocation, "I don't know if it's intentional, but you're quick. You speak eloquently and shift topics effectively. I only take so much issue because I know what your doing and can't keep up; everyone else finds you entrancing.
I'm sure your little cult will gain plenty of followers from you."
She was going to ignore the slight, and focus on something else, "You know so much about me do you?"
"Not your history, but I can recognize the tactics you use. I know the type of person you are, and I've used people like you before."
"So that's what this is? A hope for redemption?"
"Not at all, I don't feel bad."
And of course, Mojave would take that as a chance to end the conversation. She waited for her to continue and she simply didn't.
"Go on, heretic."
She hmm'd, playing stupid, "With what? I've explained why I'm still traveling with you."
Satyrus sighed, no more progress tonight; but if she would follow her then she'd have time to unravel her.
"So we'll leave soon?"
Mojave stared at the campfire for a moment, then nodded, "Yes, I'd like to be flying by now, but you're recovering from heat stroke and I'm trying to go easy on you."
"I can fly fine I assure you."
Mojave looked at her, then got up and took a canteen from her satchel, "Drink this at least."
She huffed, and took it.
She was actually quite thirsty...
The canteen ran dry faster then it should have, alongside a defeating 'Told you so' from Mojave.
"We'll be stopping by a border town on the way to the Rain Kingdom to resupply, is there anything of note you need?"
She looked through her own satchel before handing back the canteen, "I have everything I should need."
Mojave took it, and looked her down, "Are you sure."
None of this, "What are you implying?"
She huffed, "I could hear you, with that..."
"Psoriasis."
"Right, Psoriasis..."
Satyrus smiled, "I assure you, I was not acting out of promiscuity. It is simply an act to bring me closer to Clearsight."
Mojave grimaced.
"Clearsight had many children," she clarified, to which Mojave slowly nodded, face painted with concern.
"...And the child?"
"I assure you, I will have no troubles laying. I've had plenty of practice!"
She continued staring, open mouthed like a dullard, "How old are you?"
"Is that not rude to ask?" she flipped a rhetorical question back, "Nineteen, why?"
Mojave looked away, "...Nothing."
"So that is all then?"
"No," Mojave shook her head and looked back, "Are you going to find him again before you leave or..."
Oh right! That was one of the cultural differences she had become familiar with before leaving the mainland!
She laughed and waved a hand, "If he intends to raise them I'm sure he'll have no trouble finding them, not many hybrids of course. But I figure I would leave them with hatchery - for those less fortunate!"
Mojave was quiet for a moment, the inhaled sharply and massaged her snout.
"You're gonna love the Rainwings."