The Desert is Cold in the Dark [Dark Data]

[Summer]

A questioning hum escaped Somerled’s throat, his eyes darting between the two rising plumes of dust and sand in the distance. With every unsteady step, sand sliding away beneath his feet, his vision bobbed and jumped erratically. Though there was no way to tell what was coming to rain on their parade, the storm spirit was certain of one thing. Whatever the hell was booking it towards them was damn confident, and confidence like that probably meant it wouldn’t be fun to tangle with.

“Ahhh...” the monster released a strained sigh, raising his arm and trying his best to hold the device steady in front of his face. This damnable device could locate persons and places of all kinds, but apparently had no way to tell distance of all things. Or perhaps it could only give a rough estimation, and that was why it wasn’t giving any solid numbers. “Speaking of numbers... Sonny.” Somerled mumbled, trying to catch his other half’s attention. “Seeing as how you have nothing better to do, see what you can extrapolate from these dots.”

“They’re gonna catch up,” the sun spirit immediately responded, borrowing their shared voice. “That’s all I can give you. Got nothing new unless you give me a few minutes to crunch the numbers.”

“Well then,” Somerled grumbled, left arm dropping back to his side, and right reaching into the pocket of his coat. His hand closed around the familiar leather of his bullwhip, and yanked it out, taking care to keep it rolled up for now. In a few minutes, those numbers would be useless. An unsettling smile spread across his lips. “Looks like we’ll just have to blow them away extra hard. Take no chances,” he paused for a brief moment, and raised his voice, loud enough for Raynor and Ogong to hear. “They’re definitely catching up, be prepared.” They probably already knew, but more preparation didn't hurt.