It had been only some small amount of time since Raux and the other beastkin monk had ended their conversation. Curiously, she found herself wondering on her own existance once more. Not over an existential questions like she had in the past, about what she was… or what she looked like. But more over what the monk had meant when he asked her if she thought she was blind. It was a strange question to ask. If she were to remove the wraps from her eyes, and open them. She’d see nothing.

Well… that was not entirely true. There were some things she -could- see. And not by senses, but with her eyes. She could not see the trees, people, animals, or any other objects. But she could see… something when she looked up towards the sky. In an endless void were an array of speckles that breaks up the dominating dark mass. She’d call them stars… if only by the description of what she was told about them. Vibrant, beautiful, and always fixed in place. Yet these specs cared not for the time of day.

She’d always find new ones hovering over places she’d deem important. Or something that she’d like to visit again in the future. And that often meant that a city had a small cluster of ‘stars’ over them that can be seen in the horizon.

Her whiskers twitched as her thoughts finally ran away from her… bringing her back to reality. It was nice to have companions again in traveling. But.. unlike the delightful company of the bard she had been with previously. This lot seemed short spoken, grim faced, and not likely to speak unless spoken too. So… she quickly hurried up to the large creature and asked for a lift.

When it was granted, she had an akward climb up. One reason...was that she had never climbed on something’s back. Two… she had completely mispredicted how large the capybikin was, and managed to slam her own muzzle into his side. But eventually, she had clambered up after feeling his body for a moment to guage his height… and to appreciate the solid mass along with fluff.

A moment later, and she had the lute out that her old companion had given her. She strummed through several notes at once… and allowed them to drift through the air. Her ears flickered as she listened to each of the notes, ready to tune what ever did not sound correct. However… she paused when a note returned to her a bit distorted. She remained silent… and soon she heard additional footsteps. She pursed her lips… but played a song anyways.

The air was alive with an energetic song that sought only to break the silence… if only for a few minutes. And when the song was finally over… she listened once more. There were those footsteps again… but… it sounded like thre was another pair. Wandering away?

“Be advised, my companions,” she hummed softly as she continued to play her song. “I hear footsteps that do not belong to any of us. We’re not alone.”