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Haru watched the evening skies across the desert plains.
From atop their hideout the black haired man could only just see the top of the large rocks where the hanging carts of Sandrock were located. The vague image of the little town wavered in and out like some kind of mirage, and of his own accord, Haru's eyes lowered away and down onto the sand as he sat in silence. The warm breeze was his current companion as Logan went off for his usual nightly “walk”.
It was just him and Haru.
Haru and him.
Logan was the only thing currently still keeping him tethered to the small, dusty town. He had been for awhile now. Without Howlett around, Logan had… changed . His brother in all but blood was still Logan , but he was– different, now. Wilder. More like the beasts they used to venture out into the desert to defeat than an actual human being. And Haru knows the loss, the murder of Howlett weighed heavy on the soul of Logan.
(It weighed on him as well- if only he'd scouted for more, been more throughout, been more, been better . Then, maybe Howlett would have lived .)
But…he didn't, and now, what was done was done, and he could not change the loss. All he could do now was help Logan and pray he could manage the man's weivering sanity and steadily increasing plans of violence. The people of Sandrock had nothing to do with his and Logan's fight with the people of the church, now if only Logan would remember that.
Haru sighs quietly into his kerchief and casts a glance around the desert sands. He's currently sitting at the top of the ‘mountain’ that hides their current base of operations. The ‘Outskirts’ as it has been dubbed, is a lawless land with even more sand and a rougher crowd. Haru's lost count of the many times someone from over the fence has come through looking to cause a little ‘mischief’. Whether it's been to one of them or in an attempt to screw someone over for what was left in Sandrock, Logan and Haru have been keeping a watchful eye on any interlopers and or monsters and keeping it under control. Haru more so as a precaution and Logan because…well, by his own words: “If I can't be the one to deal with em’, then no’one can.”- and as concerning as that statement is, the black haired man can at least appreciate that the townies are at least being kept safe from even more unfortunate events. Still though…he wonders. Logan has been on a slow but steady decline and Haru's not seeing much progress in his own work. Their supplies are once again running low and soon the cold days of winter would begin to set in on them. It left him with the only real option of heading out, but…Haru was loath to leave Logan to his own devices for more than two days and yet Sandrock was a no go. Atara likewise was a no option as by that time of the year, it would be impossible to get to. The overpass is untraversable and the underpass only accessible by train…no, Haru could not risk being remembered let alone recognized. And so, that left… Highwind . But the pass leading up to it was steep and windy . It was dangerous and would take him a good week and a half to get to and back. (It was too long to leave Logan alone for.) But taking him with him is not something the silverette would ever agree to and thus, back to square one.
Sighing once again, Haru wished he could take Jensen's train to not only shorten the trip, but that would sooner get him arrested or detained- as they didn't know he was helping Logan, yet- for questioning than to actually get the supplies needed before the first snowfall. The leather man blinks dark eyes and looks back up to the slowly darkening skies and wonders at what the future holds, for him, for Logan, for Sandrock.
Especially for the people of Sandrock.
Haru's no idiot, and arguably (if his brother is to be believed anyways-) he's smart, intelligent enough to know that the desertification has been on an increase . The sand is steadily encroaching on what vegetation is left and only two people are actually putting in any work into fixing it. (It's not enough.)
Sandrock,
was dying.
With how things were going, the town would barely be able to afford to drink its own water let alone grow a garden of trees no matter how often Trudy went off into the desert to look for remedies. And that wasn't even the only problem:
The church was corrupt.
The Geeglers were on the up and up.
The Mousefolk were about to war.
And there was a steadily growing smog of green toxicity rising up from the Valley of Whispers.
Everything was coming up sand and the people just…ignored it. They were doing nothing about it. And it…frustrated him. But who was he to say? He had his own problems to deal with and a brother to help out. Plus, he wasn't even a part of them, not truly, he had always just been a kid they occasionally saw. He was and is no true ‘Sandrocker’. At best, in their eyes he had just been ‘Logan's friend’ and at worst: ‘The kid from the little settlement from the hills of sand. Nothing special. And certainly not a local. Tuff shit, but it's now something he is grateful for. It gives him distance. A different perspective too. Perhaps some day, someone would come along and remind them of what they're truly fighting against (and for).
Someday.
Well…that's not that day, and probably not even the next. So for now, Haru casts one last look into the last wisps of blending colors and heads back inside their little cave. Tomorrow he would break the news to Logan and the day after he would set off for Highwind. Perhaps he could pick up a thick quilt or two for the upcoming winter and–
CRUNCH
“?” Haru glances down and notes he's stepped on a particularly heavyweight paper and tilts his head. ‘Curious.’ he thinks and bends down to pick it up. It was difficult seeing what the paper said in such low lighting but he could definitely make out the bold letters in red all but screaming: BUILDER(s) NEEDED! Looking for a change of pace? Want to make a difference and also bank? Apply at your local Commerce Guild to work at Sandrock today!
“Interesting.”
“What's interestin’?”
Haru tries to hide a flinch at being startled- which he's sure Logan noticed anyways- and turns partially around to give his brother a once over. The man's silver hair is in a little disarray but otherwise, he seemed okay. So, seeing no visible injuries or clothing tears Haru deems the other in good health and thus hands over the flier. Logan politely takes it from his hand and hums as he reads. It doesn't take the other long, not with his eyes, and soon enough, the cream paper flier is gently turning circles in the wind. Haru twitches at the littering but lets it go in the same breath as they are outlaws at the moment. Safe garbage disposal was not on their list of main worries at the moment.
“Guess new blood ol’ be in town soon nough’, eh, Haru?”
Said man nods and the two step into their base for the night. The stars shined brightly at their backs and Haru wondered…
Just what kind of people would sign up to work in a dying town? Who would take up the offer, and why ? Not even the sheer amount of gol would be worth the arduous working condition or the lack of amenities. It would practically be carrier suicide!
…
And yet, he knew someone would. It was in the human spirit of most if not all to try and aid their fellow human beings whether it was for selfish reasons or not. And a struggling town? That would certainly call quite a few applicants.
Haru just hoped that whatever builder was sent over was the hardy sort. They would need to be to not only survive, but to thrive .
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