Desert Rolling dunes spread off into the distance as the hot glow of Demaria's twin suns pound upon the rippled landscape like hammers on a warped anvil. Tracks of small desert animals can be seen on the leeward side of the dune slopes. Coming over the next rise ahead of the desert wanderers, is an odd sight: A Theorian pack, looking rather puzzled at its current surroundings. Whitestripe waves a hand in slight distraction, brushing away the objection. "Then we will not let them get that close. A few hands of feet should do." He continues onwards, but at a slightly slower pace.