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The sun was relentless and hot, casting brutal rays down over the rocky desert. Sweat built up fast, and it clung like a second skin. Katsuki never minded the vicious heat or the sticky skin. He grew up under it, so he's long since been accustomed to the blazing weather. It's the freezing, exposed nights that really get to him. But night is a long ways off, now: the sun sits high in the sky, blistering with midday heat. Katsuki and a large flock of other riders make their way through the desert, horses carefully maneuvering over the stony ground. He always takes the lead on at least one of these patrols, riding out to go over the edges of their territory. Their marches ward any unwanted visitors away; give him a good chance to lay eyes on the greater kingdom's territory, sizing them up; and, occasionally, give him the opportunity to ride near the town close to where he grew up.

He can't help but keep his eyes out. It's been a little over a year since he went back to the site of his old home, went to that town to talk to Izuku only to find he... wasn't there. The thought made Katsuki feel sour. He thought about it offering, wondering where the hell he ran off to. Wondering, often to his mild surprise, if he was alright.

Movement against the horizon drew Katsuki's attention, pulling him out of his thoughts. He squinted. Just a lone man, picking his way over the harsh ground. On foot. What an idiot.

Katsuki lets his patrol follow him to the top of a small rise, where their shadows fall into the shallow valley the figure marches through, before he raises his hand for them to stop. He lingers among them for a moment before squeezing his legs, encouraging his mare to move forward at a brisk jog down the slope. His cape billows gently in the draft created by his movements and his jewelry clacks loudly against itself. The sound echoes off the stones and stillness--as does the much more pronounced drumming of his steed's heavy hooves--and the sounds work together to herald his approach long before he's close enough to shout. Still, even though he can see attention turning toward him at the sound of his approach, Katsuki's voice falls silent when he starts to raise it to announce himself.

He's close enough to speak now, which means he's close enough to see. To make out just enough features to realize the man crossing through his lands is not a stranger, not an intruder, at all.

It's fucking Deku.

The shock leaves Katsuki stunned for a moment. All he can do is stare the rest of the way down the slope, blinking to make sure his eyes still work right. They're close to their childhood home--maybe he caught Izuku on his return from... wherever the hell he went. Katsuki's eyes narrow. He's not marching in the direction of home, though. Just where the hell does he think he's going?

Katsuki pushes his horse closer than he would normally, comfortable in knowing who it is he's approaching. It's him for sure, all mussed green curls and wide eyes and sun-pulled freckles. He looks broader than the last time Katsuki saw him, too; and rugged now, marked in places with scars. He's loaded with a sizable looking bag and he's even carrying a weapon. That sourness, that bitter feeling of not knowing, presses in around his chest. Katsuki sniffs and jerks his chin up. As he draws his horse to a halt, his mouth opens, forming around a sound--then, after a beat of chewing on it, his mouth contorts into a different shape and he grunts, "Deku?" The gruffness in his voice would be familiar to Izuku but there was not such an aggressive bite as the last time they would have spoken. Katsuki's fiery eyes rake over him once, twice, before snapping up to fix Izuku's green eyes in his own. The urge to jump off his horse is strong, but he remains perched. With a sweeping gesture that stirs his cape and jewelry more, he goes on in that same growl, "The hell are you doing out here?"