Nanaue's flat, black eyes skip from one horsed person to the next, and then then wagon itself. He lifts his snout, as though tasting the air. The pungent smell that had drawn him down to the gathering seems to be coming from within.

"... bad sick. Okay."

He seems uncertain, and perhaps disappointed to be told - yet again, that there are no nom noms here.

"I go Luna..."

He's never been there before!

Nanaue turns from the wagon to stare a little too long at one of the horses...