In the end, Highball could not make herself despise Kenji for taking the head.  A dream did not necessitate scruples from the background characters.  Here, beneath the black maelstrom of sky, between the squalid hovels of wood and upon the yellow grass that permeated the roughly-cobbled road, she alone truly mattered.  Very little did this sentiment augment her confidence, however.  Though any person within eyeshot by now likely thought of her as aloof and condescending, and not unreasonably so, Highball worried inwardly that when the time came, she could not muster the skill to back her façade of cool haughtiness up.  Nothing, from the viscera in the well to the appalling smell of the ruined chapel basement, led her to believe she would receive any special favors from this world.  One wrong move and some slavering aberration would rend her consciousness from her body and send her spiraling, disappointed, back into the real world.  This quasi-existential quandary let Kenji be forgotten as soon as he abandoned her.

Highball leaned on her cane, trying to keep her expression neutral as she thought, as if diverting energy from her limbs might empower her brain.  In addition to her hesitations concerning her own ability to hunt, particularly with a rake, she knew absolutely nothing about the dreaded Paraanon Ravine itself, save of course its eastward inclination.  To her chagrin, even the omnipresence entity of east eluded her without a sun to use as a point of reference.  Maria’s appearance, manifesting by her side during her distraction, startled her observably, though Highball managed to contain any exclamations.  Without mincing her words the mannequin proceeded to elucidate the precariousness of Highball’s position, which the behatted woman found aggravating less than helpful.  Miraculously, however, Maria then proceeded to be of some use, offering directional instruments to Highball if only she come to her home.  Though instantly dubious of accompanying such a strange-looking, obviously violent person to her habitat, Highball grudgingly admitted that without any aid whatsoever she would be up a creek without a paddle.  [i]It’s not pity-giving if I can’t get it myself.  I’ll humor the creep and then leave her in my dust.[/i]  So thinking, Highball grudgingly followed Maria through the dusky town, sticking instinctively to the shadows when the option existed but not so close to the dingy shacks that some unseen hand could slither from between two boards and inflict unimaginable hurt upon her.

In the dwelling of Maria, Highball imitated a spirit, saying and doing nothing of note.  Nevertheless, she listened, almost breaking her beloved silence to chuckle when Maria accused Donny of perversion.  Not two minutes later, however, Maria –after doling out a map and compass to both the rope-meister and the cane-wielder- indifferently revealed her sexual orientation.  [i]What?  If you like women, aren’t you just as perverted as a man if you strip a girl naked?[/i]  Suddenly, the fact of Highball’s location seemed even more unnerving.  [i]Surely this can’t be some elaborate trap?  And to think I had determined to never make myself vulnerable.[/i]  With haste, Highball departed the chilling premises, and after a quick look at the instrumentation provided to her charted a course for Paraanon.  The inhospitable moon would witness her make something of herself, even if every other so-called hunter reached for the low-hanging fruits.

Some hours later, Highball drew close to the location, her pace growing slower and more cautious with every passing moment.  Though her memory of the waking world did not serve her willingly just yet, she felt fairly sure that her muscles knew no normal weapons training.  Against any sort of foe, she would have to focus all her energy on dodging, and waiting for an obvious opportunity to strike.