It was a long trek, from the Blue Thunder Manse to the nearest bastions of civilization, but Yume and Sakura were finally no more than a hop, a skip, and a jump from the nearest town, a settlement on the outskirts of a close city-state. The sun hung low in the sky, and soon twilight would threaten, but civilization was finally in sight, and now they walked on proper roads. Dirt roads, but proper nevertheless.<br/><br/>Ahead of them on the road, there are a few travelers, as well - but, once they reach a certain point in the road, near an odd, indistinct shape on the side of the road, they cross to the other side, away from the shape, before continuing on their way towards the town. It isn't until the two draw closer that the details begin to become clear.<br/><br/>There, at the side of the road, is the wreckage of a small merchant's caravan. Not an uncommon sight, in Creation: the work of bandits. A man, bruised and bloodied - perhaps no more than a corpse, or perhaps merely at death's door - is there on the road, insensate. Judging by what they see, he has been there at least half the day, if not longer, and yet, not one soul has lifted a finger for the wretch, though certainly many times the number Yume has seen on the road today must have seen this man. Every man, every woman, every child - every commoner, every merchant, every priest that has passed has done no more than cross to the other side of the road to avoid him, as if his misfortune were a contagion.