Rauko regrets crossing the border even before her foot touches the greyed-out sand.<br/><br/>She's still whole, and safe (she thinks)... but the desert nights she had grown accustomed to had lost their pristine beauty. In its place... creepy, stifling darkness, and a sensation like a thousand eyes burrowing into her back. She's never been quite so creeped out on any of her runs (not even that time she'd had to break into a mausoleum back home); but she also knows that she came out with a purpose, and she doesn't intend to let a case of the heebie-jeebies scare her away.<br/><br/>So she presses on, following the trail of footsteps in the sand. She's not entirely sure who or what it is she's looking for... but she knows that the abrupt ending of the tracks causes a cold sweat to break out across her body. Was she tracking a ghost?<br/><br/>As a note: hearing disembodied voices when you're thinking about ghosts is not good for one's psyche. Especially when you're used to being the one who can't be seen.<br/><br/>"Oi!" With a grimace, the infiltrator whips one of her daggers from its sheathe on her back, and casts her eyes about anxiously in hopes of spotting the voice's owner. "W-who in the nine hells is there?"