The payment traded hands; sixty caps for a pair of goggles with a good strap and minimal scratches on the lenses. Secretariat gave a nod to the vendor and headed further down the market, affixing the goggles around his head, the lenses resting on the brim of his hat. He really took his last pair for granted. He hadn't realized just how useful they were until he was facing a mini dust storm without a pair, a mistake he wasn't keen on repeating.

He turned the corner, following the path around some cobbled together shacks and towards the smell of food. His pouch of caps was still heavy enough. Surely he would have enough to get himself and Mouse a decent meal, otherwise it'd be another night of him hunting molerat and figuring out how to cook it thoroughly without burning it to an absolute crisp on the outside while leaving it slimy and raw on the inside.