E’lo modulated his breathing to match his steps as he walked.

For if he did not match his exhale with the crinkle of sand under his feet there were no moments of quiet.

Without a moment of quiet E’lo couldn’t hear.

If E’lo couldn’t hear he was senseless.

He would have no way of detecting the sashay of a serpesa. The rush of air of the mihilco diving at him. The hissing crackle of an auwai.

E’lo could avoid the dangers of auwai by the temperature they gave off. But if he was close enough to feel the temperature he was too close to the creatures that lived in that heat.

No, E’lo had been a seeker for decades and he knew better. He modulated his breathing to match his steps as the terrain dipped and crumbled. As the mihilco circled overhead, waiting for a moment to strike. As the moisture trickled down his body to collect in pools around his shins, weighing down his steps.

831 breaths later the mihilco left to find other prey. It wasn’t going to waste the energy of a dive on the uncertainty he presented.

E’lo’s steps did not change but his breathing did. He turned his mouth slightly to the right and sucked on a tube. Not for sustenance. That tube was on the left. The tube on the right formed a syphon and moved the water pooling around his ankles to the colony on his back.

The weight was steady on his back. Comforting. It was the only thing he carried that was not covered in cloth. Even his feet had a thin layer to reduce heat transfer.

No, the Jeem colony was exposed through a layer of melted sand to the world and the heat. It fed on that heat and multiplied. Supplying the sustenance for the tube on the left.

E’lo had carried a weight on his back since he was five. He hadn’t known then that he would be a seeker. It was standard practice to train the children in case of an emergency.

As the weight left his legs, his lips left the tube and E’lo returned to matching his breathing to his steps.

And so E’lo walked.

It was an ever so light shuffle that drew E’lo’s attention. The barest hint of movement in the otherwise still sea of sand.

He did not change his breathing or steps but he tightened his grip on his guides. The two poles were rigid and unyielding under his palms. Picked up in an oasis he had visited over ten years prior, they had become an indispensable tool in his arsenal.

E’lo didn’t know what they were made of but they helped him support the weight on his back as he walked.

And most importantly, their baskets - circular disks that prevented them from sinking too deeply into the sand - could be retracted with a click. When retracted, there was nothing to stop the bladed end from sinking in as deeply as the wielder liked.

That click was not silent however and so E’lo walked.

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Each step took him closer and the bufonoran. It must have been hungry as the shifting increased in intensity. No creature made noise without purpose.

It was definitely a bufonoran. The sickly sweet smell that had started to drift through the air was unmistakable. The scent contained an ensnaring relaxant, designed to lull prey into a fall sense of comfort.

The bufonoran burst out of the dune, scattering sand ahead of it which pattered against E’lo’s body. It had enough waiting.

But impatience cost it. Even if E’lo was not prepared, it had struck too early and he had plenty of time to react. A click rang out as the basket retracted into his guides.

E’lo slid to the side and slightly down the dune. One hand remained where he had stood, guide held out and upright.

The bufonoran had committed to a leap and even if it had been aware of the danger before it, it had no ability to change course in the air.

E’lo felt the guide bite into flesh and let go of it, snapping his arm back to his body.

The bufonoran landed, finding no prey in its jaws but a piercing pain that grew as its weight came down. A gurgling croak rang out as the guide penetrated through the weak mixture of cartilage and bone that made up the creature’s skull.

E’lo gave the creature no time to recover. The wound was likely fatal but this was no place for half measures. He began to strike, sinking his remaining guide into the creature over and over.

When the creature’s protests stilled he waited. Nothing alive could stay silent with pain for long.

After a short while he moved forward and began to feel his way around the creature’s body.

Bufonoran had an angular, lumpy exterior. The thick bulky creatures needed a method to dissipate heat while they waited for prey and the nodules provided that. It was an uncomfortable surface to run his hands over, even with cloth covering his hands.

Other seekers claimed to have the ability to hear the mouths of creatures after death. The sound of ghost exhales from their lungs guiding them to the location.

The only last exhale E'lo had ever experienced was not from a creature's lungs. He had learnt to stay far away from noisy sections of a dead body the hard way.

The bufonoran’s exterior grew sharper under E’lo’s hands as he neared the mouth. He strapped his guide to his side and released his blade. He would need to dig out his guide and bounty.

Later E’lo rubbed sand through his prizes and cleaned them up. He felt through the light bones he had carved away. Each had a hole through its center, ideal for his next activity.

He had already fed a section of the creature’s heart to his colony. A bufonoran was nothing new to them but it would allow a spurt of growth.

The rest of the creature was useless to him. He had no need of its water stores or more of its flesh. But it could not go to waste and that’s why he had the bones.

E’lo retrieved a length of thread from his side and began threading it through the bones. When complete he tied the end of the thread around a particularly pointed lump on the bufonoran’s corpse. The string began to rattle lightly in the wind.

The reality of this world was that heat dissipation was a priority for all creatures. Their very bodies had changed to reflect this. While nodules were less common, light brittle conductive bones were not. These bones created a distinct noise as they collided with each other.

The sound would guide the forerunners to the location and his bounty. His people could always use more supplies.

Work complete, E’lo detached both poles and after orientating himself with the heat of the surrounding auwai, he set off.

And so E’lo walked.

E’lo slowed in his steps and tilted his head to the side. It was faint but unmistakable. He altered course, following the edge of an auwai. The warbling sound only grew.

There was an oasis ahead. A meeting of peoples. A trial. Risk. Hope.

And so E’lo walked.