Days are pretty suspicious. Especially given the non-visible sky. They could be up to anything!

Mrmm.

She'll have her and the pet take care of breakfast, at least.

The Keres becomes something resembling human again after the application of breakfast.

"Do we have any plans for the day?"

"Eliana and I were talking about going out to look for clues towards my Nausicaa's mother's trail. It also wouldn't hurt to track down occult bookshops - though I suspect you're more likely to find a concentration of those up the northern corridor, in Boston."

"I would like to acquire more occult information. We could split the duties."

"I suspect that'll work very well, then."

Then they split up after breakfast?

That works for Mora!

Is she really going to wander around with her eyes closed?

She laughs - "Maybe a little. At least at intersections, I should try to get the pulse of things..."

"I'll make sure no one runs into you."

She smiles, softly. "Why, thank you. Though people tend to avoid me. I haven't the foggiest idea why." This last is perhaps said a bit sarcastically.

"Natural caution, perhaps."

She laughs. "Perhaps I can learn how to make cats hiss and milk curdle as I pass by."

"That might prove inconvenient if we wish to keep dairy products in the house."

"I'll pass on that part of the set, then."

"Very accommodating of you."

"I strive to be a team player!"

"It'll be us versus the worlds."

"I look forward to it. Though I would like my Nausicaa back, first, before venturing far afield..."

"As is only natural." Shall they begin the search, then?

Certainly.

The city is differently awake, in the morning. People walk with a sense of purpose. There's a cool wind winding through the streets.

Mora's path, including frequent pauses to close her eyes and listen, takes them all over. Past massive parks, through streets lined with cafes, through poorer regions, through places where the space between Void walls is only one street wide...

She - gets a sense. A pulse. 

But she's not sure she'll find anything today.

"It's almost like it's asleep," she says, softly. "Like some - nocturnal thing."

"I don't know enough to know if that makes sense."

"Neither do I."