Familiar sounds perked Akira's ears. She moved a strand of filthy brown hair behind her ear, wondering if the sound was a simple trick her tired mind was playing on her. Another distant sound seemed to confirm that the noise was genuine. She turned around to face Michi. The young boy was almost as filthy as she was, unsurprising considering neither of had been grated the luxury of clean cloths or proper rest in nearly a week. Michi's short blond hair highlighted the specks of dirt and mud than clung to the boy's head and his cloak was so dirty it was difficult to determine which shade of black was the original.