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Pain pulsed from his head as X'yahma opened his eyes. Everything was gray. Rocky and sandy. The blur faded as his eyes focused. He propped himself up on his elbow, his free hand fumbling about for a potion. He was on the ground. Where was his yol? The last thing he remembered was a sandstorm, and the others scattered. He directed the bird to a small canyon and then...
He must've fallen off. Or they're down one bird. There's no sign of blood, or feathers. Anything that'd eat a bird of that size would've left some signs behind. If anything even close to that size lived in this dead place. As his hand finally found the bottle, he put two fingers to his ear. "Hien? Hien, can you hear me?"
All that came through the linkpearl was static and silence.
"Yugiri, are you alright?" he tried someone else. No answer
"Y'shtola? Alisaie!?"
krrrr-
"Godsdamn-" He forced himself up and stood, albeit with a wobble. Rather than waste his breath, he opened the cork and drank a little of the potion. Enough to dull the pain. As he felt the medicine take effect, he scanned the environment. It was the worst of Thanalan and the Fringes. Dead. Dusty. The air tasted stale. If the land was as devoid of aether as he'd been told, then perhaps the lack of it was interfering with communications. Or the still-raging storm deflected the signal, on top of the terrain blocking it.
But static meant the linkpearl wasn't broken. He wasn't sure if this was good fortune or a bad omen. He stepped forward after the pain dulled, and the sand crunched under his feet. Spinning as he walked down the canyon, he saw the tracks he left behind. Good. Once the storm passes, he can make for a wide, open space he can make a smoke signal. In the meantime, he'll go as far as he can on foot. He broke into a jog and pulled his goggles down over his eyes. There's no time to waste.