Elijah had just been out on a patrol around his humble desert town; Honeyacre. In which he was the sheriff to! A sweet small location thriving in the midst of a sweltering sands, but at least they had a train that occasionally came by with the necessities. Elijah exhaled softly and pat the neck of the horse he was riding, silently apologising for the uneven land.

A small while passed before he began to head back, but a shape in the sand caught his attention. His brow furrowed subtly and he began to head over.