His regular ensemble was currently at the tailor's, the numerous rips and holes from two months of fighting being sewn up even as he sat at here drinking. The clothes he filled into now were what the tailor had given him, and with the bags under his eyes from sleep deprivation, and how he carried his lean form -which is to say very haggardly due to his relentless passion in forcing himself and Slade on such a torrid pace- he couldn't help but feel he looked like nothing more than a meager beggar.

He raised the glass that sat before him, and took a large drink of the Jowstweiser which rested, unmolested until that point, inside the cup. They had arrived late last night, well after the moon had reached its zenith and began its descent to rest for the rapidly approaching daylight. The town was like a tomb in those early morning hours, Zamza remembered, deathly quiet and unmoving, the slightly waving leaf a titanic and epic development in the silent stasis that captivated the town. Zamza had been sure then that he could here his own heart beating inside his chest during those moments.

However, even though his legs ached, every single one of his muscles felt like they would soon snap in half, and his features had become that of a slowly dying human, he was very happy with the progress they were making. He was proud of how hard he had pushed himself and Slade -who for some reason seemed more than happy to oblige- because he was getting closer now, closer and closer. They would be in Radat in two or three days, depending on when the two left, and then he would see his friend Vandle for the first time in almost 10 years.

Suddenly, Zamza was struck with just how much he needed to see Vandle again. For the first time since this new journey began, he realized just how lonely he had gotten -a demented killer and dead rabbit's skull didn't make for the best companionship-, and he wished he had stayed with Morgan and Fukien a little longer.

Zamza and Slade had rode on the boat from Coronet to Kuskus with the two Qlon Temple brothers, and while Slade, ever the human sponge of knowledge, basked in a new found erudition upon the deck, Zamza relayed the story and objective of his new journey to his two friends in the passenger quarters. When the boat had docked at Kuskus, Zamza was insistent that he and his guide should leave immediately. Slade agreed, and so Zamza said his goodbye's to Morgan and Fukien, and left Kuskus and his friends (or so he thought) ten minutes later. Then they had arrived in South Window roughly a day and a half afterwards.

But the loneliness wasn't the only reason that he wished he had remained with Morgan and Fukien. There was another reason, tugging at his insides and driving his instincts into overdrive that there was something very wrong, and no matter how much he wanted to let it pass, he simply couldn't ignore it.

Slade's behavior was what vexed him most, and not for the reasons one who had seen him the last few days would suspect. Slade had completely stopped talking to Benny, and it wasn't like the two had gotten into a fight either, Slade had just stopped, almost as if he had never met the bunny, like a burning candle that had been blown out, *poof*, it's gone. That wasn't the only thing either. He had, for the most part, cut off all communications with Zamza as well, although he was more than friendly with the innocent civilians that he passed by, talking to them like the two had been best friends for years. Now, witnesses to Slade's insanity laden comportment might have considered this a good thing, but not Zamza, he didn't like the sudden change in disposition this close to the conclusion of this quest. To be quite blunt, it frightened Zamza a great deal. This radical departure from Slade's previous behavior was something new for Zamza, and he wasn't quite sure how to deal with it. Yes, Slade was incredibly unpredictable at times, but never really with his attitude, in fact, no one on the planet really was, because if they tried to fake who they really were, a little of their true self of always shone through, and it was all too noticeable.

But that drudged up another memory; the savage butchering of the ninja, Fuma, and he remembered how Slade had been just seconds before the deadly episode. Slade had been a completely different person. Zamza mulled it over for a couple of seconds. The reason your true self always came through in however you were trying to act was because you still knew who you truly were. But that was what Slade did so well, Zamza knew, and he realized that he could have drastically underestimated Slade's abilities. A lie is no longer a lie when you convince yourself it's the truth. When Slade's persona changed like this, he truly believed this was the type of person he was. He was so good at it that he had even goat a ninja, people whom were born to the side of caution, off-guard with it. 'So, was that it?' Zamza wondered, 'Was Slade planning on killing him before he got to Vandle?' It would make sense, to show him a finale to a horrible past life, then kill him before he could get there. His humiliation would be complete, and that's what Slade wanted, Zamza knew. Zamza shook his head and guessed that he would soon find out. In the meantime, he wouldn't relax his guard for anything.

"Potch for your thoughts?" came a soft voice from nowhere, startling the deep-thinking Zamza.

'So much for not letting your guard down' Zamza thought to himself sarcastically, glancing up to view the owner of the voice; the barmaid. He looked at her features, nothing to remarkable, average height and weight, brown hair and eyes, but still a very pretty young woman.

Zamza smiled politely, a hard test for him at his current junction, and grabbed his glass for only the second time since he had received it. "You'd be getting ripped off, trust me" Zamza replied dryly, then proceeded to down the rest of his Jowstweiser. He sat the glass back down, dug through his pouch for the potch he owed, plus a tip of course, and tossed it on the table. Without another word, he left the South Window bar.

For Emmett Chalmers, the task of sewing up the many holes that infected Zamza's wardrobe, was a remedial one. Although, why the man wanted these clothes re-sewn, rather than just having him tailor him some new clothes was beyond his comprehension. So, when Zamza walked back into his shop, some three hours after he had been there the first time, Emmett was nearly complete.

When Emmett looked up at Zamza to tell him it would be just a second, the words got caught in his throat. He couldn't suppress the smile as he realized just how foolish his customer looked in the clothes he had given him. Pants that were too short for the man, hanging just below the knees, two small holes on either side. The shirt was too big, falling down to just above the knees, the sleeves going well past the tips of his fingers, and should the hood have been up, it would have no doubt dwarfed his head and hidden it in darkness. "I guess I really should get some different clothes for my consumers, huh?" he said, the smile still big and bright on his face. Zamza nodded his consent, but was in no mood to smile.

Emmett went back to work without saying anything else, but the smile still present, and just ten minutes or so later, Zamza's clothes were finished. He held them up for Zamza to see, and the nomadic warrior couldn't hide his pleasant surprise. Emmett beamed once again, handing the clothes to Zamza, and showed him to the place he could get changed at.

Zamza was in and out quickly, desperate to get out of what the tailor like to call his "supplement clothes". He hung the beastly items on a chair, and once again muscled through his pouch. "Let's see," he said aloud, "here's your base fee, plus the extra two hundred I promised for making it your top priority, and an additional hundred for doing such an excellent job" he finished up, a little enthusiastic at just how well Mr.. Chalmers had done his job.

"Thank you sir, your generosity is greatly appreciated." Emmett said, taking the money from Zamza. "If you ever need me again, you'll know where I'll be" he concluded, hopefully.

Zamza nodded and left the store. He made his way through the streets quickly, then back to the inn, passing Slade at the entrance and telling him he was going to get some sleep, and that they were leaving first thing in the morning, so he should be ready.

Slade watched him go, and when Zamza was out of sight, a large smile appeared on his scarred imitation of a face.

"What's so funny?" came a high pitched voice passing through Slade's lips (although he didn't know it). "Why haven't you been talking to me?"

Slade looked down at Benny and apologized. "I'm sorry, it's just I want to have complete focus for the end."

"Then what's so funny?" came the question once again.

"Funny? Zamza's is, silly!" Slade replied, shaking his head at the bunny.

"Why is he so funny?"