"Oh," Mojave found herself saying, not entirely certain how to go about an appropriate rejoinder. Like a funambulist, she debated just letting it hang there and finding some sort of words to go along with something she knew nothing about. With no one to seek out and even less inclination to carry on a pursuit to uphold any childhood secrets she may have still remembered, she was at a loss for several seconds. And then perhaps starkly, something did come to her.


"Well, I hope you find wherever home is," and yet that didn't seem enough. "I'm sure it can't be too far off, I mean, you haven't gave up or anything. Sometimes it's just around the next bend, what we're looking for." Maybe in Namid's case, it would be somewhere not too far away at all, perhaps on the other side of the mountains, or further up north where Mojave could only assume the forest continued to sprawl wildly and unrestricted.


And to the side of that, she could not help but think that it must have been nice to realize that there was someone at home waiting for her. Hopefully they had not given up the hope that they held either. Mojave could not help but hold onto the passing feeling of guilt that she could not help better in some way, that she did not have a lay of the land that she was crossing through. Either way, she sensed that since she did not have the information, there would be a coming conclusion to their passing here.