In the time it had taken for Krichevskoy to look up from his menu, Timon had turned his glance to the window. He pressed his paws against the glass, leaning against it as though eager to return outside. The meerkat did not turn to address the demon when he spoke, only narrowed his eyes at those he had been watching outside. “I guess so. I wouldn’t know.” He had never left Paixao and those who had returned had never remembered walking its streets. Pulling away from the window, Timon looked down at his menu. Food, however, did not appear to be on his mind.

“I think there might be someone,” he said, rubbing his chin. “She was here a long time ago back when I first arrived. She seemed to remember the city when she returned. I think her name was some kinda colour. Navy? No, that wasn’t it. Aqua? Turquoise? Azul?” He frowned, certain her name was something to do with blue. “Ah, I can’t remember. Next I see ‘er I’ll ask.”

He rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes slowly inching back to the window. “I, uh, don’t know what went on back at the house. You know, with Laharl and…? A lot of other folks disappeared though. You weren’t the only one.” Only when it came to returning.