The air is clear, beautifully clear. There's no Mist anywhere, only the clean air and the blue sky and the faint white streaks of cirrus clouds, high above. Rising from the earth are trees, lush and green, trees of every kind, and in the clearing in the midst of them, tall grasses grow blissfully, as if they've never known a drought. It's like a garden grown wild, spangled with flowers, garlanded with vines, dotted with berries.

This wood and the meadow in the midst of it resemble nothing so much a world that has never known war or chaos or calamity, though that is far from the truth. It is a world that has seen its share of devastation, that has almost been destroyed, more than once.

The meadow is dominated by flora, but not empty of fauna: a man and his silver dragon are at rest in its center, lounging in the middle of this pastoral scene. Kuja sits beside his large friend, idly stroking its hide. Shortly, another dragon appears in the sky. A distant speck at first, it grows steadily nearer, until it descends from the sky and alights on the ground near its fellow dragon. Kuja doesn't so much as glance at it at first, instead turning to regard the person who he finds standing on the edge of the wood, looking on.

"Ah, there you are. I've been waiting. As you can see, your mount has arrived." Now he gestures toward the second dragon, which stands attentively, as the first dragon and Kuja rise to their feet as one. "Are you ready to depart?"

It had been a hurried few weeks since the fiasco with the Remnants, something that wasn't helped along by the fact that there were some wounds that even a full cure couldn't completely heal and the exceedingly strange dreams he'd been having lately.

Not to mention the apparent newfound telepathic link with people.

It had given Tseng a lot to think about while sorting through the mess things had become to see what could be salvaged and what needed to be disposed of. He'd taken a few days to travel to Junon, he'd needed to sleep in his own home and bed for once and had told Cloud during one of the telepathic episodes that he'd meet him there.

So he sat outside the small coffee shop on the corner of his street every day reading and waiting for him to show up. He's not in his suit, though his clothing choice has never varied far from the dark colors he so often inhabits. His sweater is a pale blue, zipped against the chilly sea wind and to help disguise the bulk of bandages. The one on his face is still present though, and it will likely leave a scar.