fear is the little death that brings total obliteration

The dark world he'd slowly, painstakingly, grown accustomed to was quite a strange one. Here he walked alone, regardless of who might be around him, in a world only he inhabited. He always walked this world alone. It was as alienating as it was freeing; though the former was what usually consumed him. He had to be careful, always, but with his raven companion he was finding that his world was growing larger and larger by the day. He didn't need to fear finding himself completely lost and helpless... not that he ever went without at least some of those worries swirling around in his mind.

Given the desolate state of the landscape, keeping track of what was going on around him was hard, even in the quiet of night. The movement of paws against sand wasn't quite as audible as they might be if they were moving over dirt or grass. His head was bowed low, ears perked high and swiveling to try to keep track of where the stranger might be.

His voice gave Veigar a better indicator of his position, and he moved accordingly, orienting himself in a position that made more sense. He was constantly trying to disguise his disability for what it was, not wanting it to be taken as an immediate weakness. Always tilting his head toward who he was speaking to, always trying to look like he could see even if his hazy, unfocused eyes told a different story if anyone looked at them close enough.

Veigar just hummed, almost thoughtfully, though he didn't disagree with Ronan's statement. "Scouting," he answered simply, not entirely the truth but not completely a lie either. "I don't live far from here. I wanted to see what was out here." And what had he found, exactly? Just sand and more sand, for as far as his paws had taken him.