After that conversation, the rest of the 'journey', or more appropriately - escape, had passed in relative silence. The number of little hamlets and passersby eventually dwindled until all that remained on the road was the sand, silence, and heat. Unbearable heat. Heat that mercilessly beat down on Dark Methuseld, aka Ravishing, aka The Dark Sexy Nameless One, as if with a club. Yes, yes, unsurprisingly the sexy armor wasn't very practical: the skin it didn't cover, which was almost all of it, was milky white and offered little resistance against the senseless onslaught of nature's fiery ball of annoyance. Dark Methuseld had covered herself as best she could, but by sunset she was the Pink Sexy Nameless One. And a grumpy One at that.<br/><br/>They went off the beaten path to make their camp - the further away they camped the less likely it was that they'd be found by whoever pursued them. Making sure not to stray so far that they couldn't make their way back to the road in the morning, they found an outcrop of rocks among the dunes, one of quite a few in the surrounding area, that would provide decent cover. If their pursuers were smart, they would know that anyone wanting to be hidden would find the outcrop attractive... but that's why they would take turns standing guard.<br/><br/>The sand was a roiling sheet of red cloth against the setting sun, at once serene and dangerous. To Donovan, that was likely quite symbolic of the current state of his companions. For Methuseld's darker half, however.... it was just sand. Red and beautiful like her horse, which she'd just finished tacking. The horse, which she'd internally and uncreatively named Crimson, snorted in relief. "Oh hush, I'm not<em>that</em>fat!"<br/><br/>She removed the saddlebags, filled to the brim with food, supplies, and as much else as they could haul off the ship, and dropped them on the floor. "Dinner's readyyyy," she remarked in a sing-song, motherly sort of tone.