[ for a very brief moment, he wonders if this could be arrakis, perhaps carthag— but quickly dismisses the possibility. there are no buildings like this in carthag or arrakeen, and the landscape is altogether wrong.
throwing an arm up over his eyes to shield them from the wind and sun and sand, he creeps into the cherubs' dwelling, following the ever-growing electrical hum. his other hand moves for the knife in his belt.
violence tends to be one of his favorite forms of social interaction, after all. ]