His boat was far behind, and for the first time in a while Hoshikata was walking by himself. He had sent the ship of refugees on ahead to their new home when he jumped port at the coast of Wind. The trek through this land had been interesting, beginning with a city on the sea full of merchants hawking their wares, and now he was wandering in a desert of hard sand and harder winds. The heat didn't bother him, he felt neither hot nor cold any longer, but the sand was a nuisance. He'd taken to walking with a kinetic shield around him in order to keep it off.
He was whistling a tune as he moved, quite a sight to be sure. A man with golden skin and eyes, whistling a jaunty tune as he walked along with his black robes on. Still, he had places to go, things to do.
He was whistling a tune as he moved, quite a sight to be sure. A man with golden skin and eyes, whistling a jaunty tune as he walked along with his black robes on. Still, he had places to go, things to do.