Another wide street. The second-to-last before the next bridge over the river. Catskill’s anxiety was buzzing like a beehive. She wiped down her goggles and looked around. Nothing. She pulled her blunderbuss into a firing position, just in case. She looked over Amanita’s shoulder. Still nothing. Yet paranoia wouldn’t let her rest. “Do you see somepony?” she asked Amanita.