He had chosen to wander eastward again for the moment, on a whim and then on the growing sense that perhaps something new was there to see, or perhaps someone new would come to the same place where he might eventually stop. He didn't fancy himself any greeter for these lands - that distinction belonged to one of the natives, surely - but he had some insight as to the lands leading mauka, and would be willing to share that with anyone coming from the east.

He came eventually upon a gorge, or perhaps saying that he had rather suddenly stumbled into it was the more appropriate term. Soon he found himself sliding down a shallower area of the northern end, occasionally stopping to leap down when he current route ended in a sheer drop. The trip was a mildly unsettling one, but his descent was eventually halted by the soft scush of his large paws slipping into the bloody sand lining to bottom of the gorge.

Golden eyes gleamed as the man tilted his head to the side, eyeing the sandy carpet with childlike interest. One formerly white paw lifted out of the sand so that he could better inspect the way it had been stained scarlet by the sediment; his black nose twitched as he sniffed at his paw, though the sand likely smelled the same on the ground as well. How curious; why should there be sand here, and why this strange color? Şivan turned his eyes to the walls, looking at them more speculatively now. He supposed those could have been worn away by a large, long-lived surge of water that had for whatever reasons subsequently dried away. Perhaps this had once been a river, and the sand its bed.

Ah, well. this seemed a nice enough place to stop for a moment, and the pull that he neither understood nor ever chose to ignore had eased up. Whatever would be here for him to find, then, was likely approaching him on its own - and so Şivan laid down across the sanguine floor of the gorge and waited.