[attr="class","sinbody2"]The longer the Scorch went on, the more and more Jaron felt alone. Which was strange, if you think about it - suddenly everyone was shoved into caves and under rocks (literally), with very little personal space, and yet the entertainer felt ostracized. He supposed it was his own doing, considering he didn't really aim to make friends back in Nemus since all his time was consumed by working out, thinking about Zee, trying not to think about Zee, and hitting on other women in a bid to squelch his longing for - you guessed it - Zee. His goal hadn't been to form lasting connections, because he'd never been in one place long enough to worry about that before. Sure'd, he'd grown lonesome from time to time drumming around his cabin by himself, but with the expanse of natural jungle-gym outside his front door, there was always a distraction. Here it was just... Sitting amongst all these people bantering amicably and try not to be awkward. He didn't have much to talk about, since no one really identified with him on any level. Plus, his fame had always been the thing to insert him into conversations, not his great ice breaking.

He did manage to play a couple of "shows" once someone asked him what he did for his colony, which everyone seemed to enjoy because it broke them of the monotony of huddling in the caves until dusk, but after the courteous applause died down, there were no gawking fans trying to stick to his side. Having just finished another one, he'd handed the guitar back to its owner and walked undisturbed to the outer rim of the mountain. The face there wasn't terribly steep, so he was able to climb up without the fear of losing a foothold and tumbling to his death.

Now, with Sol only a few hours from breaking the horizon, Jaron sat with his legs dangling over the side and his back leaning against the partially-chiseled out rock. It was a little uneven, like someone had started trying to make an opening but thought better of it. Sighing quietly to himself, he tried to enjoy this quiet time. Everyone else would be getting ready to tuck in for a few hours, since they wouldn't be able to do anything during daylight anyway. His eyes focused on the colors in the sky, a mix of purples, reds, and greens so unlike the dawn back home. Instead of being a comfort like he intended, it was a stark reminder of how far he'd come from the life he knew. And, of course, he wished Zee were here to share it. She'd be able to find a positive in it.

Shortly after the thought crossed his mind, Jaron heard the crunch of rubble and turned his head. Someone else was coming up. Had they followed him after the show? Or was this someone else's spot? It had seemed a little worn, like the path had been traveled a few times before. Thinking it might be the one person he wanted it to be, his stomach did a little flip. A few minutes later, though, too-dark hair came into view and he returned to his default state of only being slightly interested. When it turned out to be a man, Jaron tried to scoot over on the ledge to make room. "Oh, sorry man, is this your spot?"