They were a few hundred miles north east of Carson by now. Nevada’s stretches of wide desert had transitioned drastically into mountainous, rocky ridges, with plenty of wildlife to boot. Along their travels, they stopped from time to time and gathered furs and game. As the days got colder, they would find what shelter they could through trading posts and the odd town, posing as tanners. It was a few days ago that they reached Unionville. A rinky-dink mining settlement for sure, but there were still enough people for Mei to take precautions. Skirting the outside of the city, Mei paid their way into a barn on the far rim of town. There was talk of a storm making its way from the west, and with a mountain trail ahead of them from here to the Dakotas, it was better not to risk that kind of weather.