And for the third chapter in ONE DAY (OMGoshness!), Scout's arrival in the desert and their (very brief) meeting! Next chapter could be weeks, lolz :P

Own nothing.


When Scout stepped off of the transit, the heat hit her like a wave. She stumbled, stunned a moment, before she regained her balance. She'd known it would be hot – it wasn't called the Lost Desert for nothing, but she hadn't quite been prepared for this.

She pulled her hood up over her head, noticing that her face felt noticeably cooler. Right, she'd just have to keep it up.

The young Cybunny, always quick to adapt, moved forward and slipped into the crowd. She'd always been good at blending in, and her Resistance training had made her almost invisible. Add to that the Sakhmetian clothes that a few of the other agents had rustled up and altered for her, and nobody gave her a second glance.

Coming to a pause under the shade of a market stall, Scout looked around at the busy plaza. In all respects, it was very similar to the Hanger of her satellite home – there were dozens of tourists wandering around in small groups, awed at the slightest things; market workers walking with purpose, delivering or picking up packages; guards keeping their eyes on things and the occasional small child ducking and weaving between the legs of the market-goers.

Everything seemed to be bombarding her senses; she could smell all sorts of exotic spices and fruits, her eyes were blinded by the brilliant colours of the robes around, and the noise of all the people was simply deafening. Scout highly doubted it would be this busy if it weren't for the regular transit shuttles that brought tourists from all over Neopia.

After a moment's observation, Scout thought about her mission. Look for Sloth-supporters. The best way to do that was simply to observe the city for a few days, then formulate a plan. She needed to know whether the Slothites flaunted their faction in public, or whether they kept it quiet.

Without really looking where she was going, Scout set off. She was going to observe Sakhmet, by quite literally 'mingling'.


Tomos stormed through the alleyway, hands deep in his pockets. He couldn't understand why he was in such a foul mood. He used to be the joker of the gang, who came up with crazy, risky ideas. Now he just wanted to vent his boiling anger.

He briefly considered what Horace had said. Was the young Blumaroo right? Did he really 'have a thing' for Nabile? He did miss her laugh, and the way she'd reprimand him for his latest foolhardy scheme...

He stuck his tongue out in childish defiance.

Stupid, soppy love stories. That's what started this problem in the first place.

He certainly would not be a part of it. Let Nabile run away with her handsome prince, see if Tomos cared. He wouldn't get caught up in all that mushy nonsense, oh no!

For a moment, he was almost the old fun-loving Lupe again. Then he stepped out into Market Square and his now signature scowl settled over his face. He wove through the happy throngs of people, automatically darting his eyes about for a decent mark.

Someone bumped into him, then apologised in a quiet voice. It was the voice that caught Tomos' attention. It wasn't one he had heard before; it seemed more refined than anyone he knew, but at the same time hinted at experience of life.

He turned to get a good look at the owner of the voice. His eyes wandered over the cloak that almost entirely hid the young woman – he was sure it was a woman, the voice had told him that – and he smiled. Rich material, a fine cut – this was a travelling cloak of excellent quality. And Quality in the Lost Desert meant money.

He ducked underneath the arm of an angry Grarrl shopkeeper that was gesturing wildly in his complaints and started to tail his first mark of the day.