The moment Fenrir and Hawk stepped onto the fourth floor, they were greeted by a gust of dry, bitter wind.
The air here smelled like ash and rot, and the cracked, dusty ground stretched endlessly in all directions, dotted only by jagged rock formations and the occasional corpse of a beast or traveler.
Hawk didn't linger long.
"Well… this is where I leave you."
He said quickly, already stepping back.
But before he could vanish, Fenrir reached out and grabbed the edge of his tattered cape.
Hawk froze in place, groaning softly.
"Again?"
"You know the drill. Sign it."
Fenrir said flatly.
Another glowing contract appeared between them, binding Hawk to silence about anything he'd seen or heard. Hawk sighed, grabbed the pen, and signed without protest.
"Happy?"
He muttered.
Fenrir let go.
"Ecstatic."
