Symon continued his journey towards the distant trees with a spring in his step. Metaphorically, of course, considering his injuries reduced him to a shuffling limp. His previously pale skin was noticeably redder, thanks to the continued efforts of the three suns. He'd discovered that his idealise ability had been protecting him from the sunburn, but without any vitality in his vessel, this stopped.

Ugh, at this rate I'm going to get skin cancer too.

He'd been walking for over an hour without incident before something broke up the monotony. Hidden behind a dune that he'd skirted around on the way to his destination, was a dark, blocky structure. It was obviously unnatural, making it the only sign of civilisation he'd found, and indeed the only sign of any life other than that centipede. There were surely more burrowed in the sand, but he hadn't encountered any and would have no way of spotting them until he was directly over one. With that in mind, he changed his heading and slowly crept towards the structure.

Although hazy heat lines and the bright reflection of the sand made it hard to pick out details, the scene clarified as he limped his way closer. It was a long, squat structure with no obvious doorways but a few holes that were probably windows. He couldn't make out much of the interior, with what he could see being nothing but sand. He circled the structure, keeping his distance so as to not alert anything inside. When he made it to the opposite side, he found the entrance -- it was not only sideways, but also collapsed.

Must have been a tower that fell over.

Considering it was the only shelter for as far as he could see, it was a good bet that it was occupied. Still, Symon wanted to go in. For one, he needed more Vitality. With his wounds, there was little chance he'd make it to the trees before his thirst killed him. Regardless of future plans, he needed shelter for the coming night. He wouldn't be able to sleep out under the stars without something waking him up by chewing off his legs, plus he knew deserts tended to get to freezing temperatures at night. With a centipede mandible in one hand and the grey thread of his Seize ability in the other, he slowly approached one of the windows closest to the ground.

He limped towards the tower as stealthily as possible, equal parts excited and afraid. There were a few shattered black stones on the ground, mostly buried in the sand. They lead up to a window that was at about waist height on Symon. There was no glass or barrier inside the windows and while they weren't particularly large, he'd be able to squeeze through. The question was if that was something he wanted to do.

He could charge blindly in and engage in glorious battle with whatever made this structure its home, but Symon would rather prove the sand wrong when it told him his intelligence was a 0.72. He had a diploma, dammit, and he was going to act like it by planning things out.

First, he cast his senses out, hoping he could immediately notice something useful. The stone of the building was old, worn smooth by the wind and scouring sands. It did have plenty of cracks that he could use to climb on the top -- originally the side -- of the tower if he wanted to. He couldn't hear anything inside, although the wind passing through the windows made a keening whistling sound that would have covered up most noises anyway.

Looking through the windows showed him nothing but a narrow cone of sand, blown inwards by the gentle breeze. Due to the thickness of the walls, he'd have to stick his head all the way into the window to have more than a narrow field of vision. Going literally headfirst into an unknown and likely dangerous situation seemed like the worst thing to do if he wanted to prove his intelligence to the sand. Instead, he slowly built up a map of the room by checking out the small slices of vision available through the multiple windows. He was careful to maintain what he hoped was a safe distance, and on the fourth try, he spotted something useful.

Symon was no master huntsman, but he didn't need to be to see the pristine print in the thin layer of sand. He didn't recognise what creature it belonged to, but whatever it was must have been big. The print was as large as his own, although much wider. If he was on Earth, he would have guessed that it was a bear, although it was anyone's guess what kind of creatures lived in this desert.

At least it's not another creepy-ass centipede...

He circled the tower a few more times but didn't learn much new. It was 15 or so metres from base to pointy top, which Symon thought was unreasonably tall for a lone tower in the desert. If he were to build in the desert, he'd want something nice and wide to try and stop it from sinking into the sand.

The original entrance to the tower was mostly collapsed, although it looked like something had cleared a path through. Investigating this gap, he gulped as his eyes roamed around its outline. The gap was much larger than what Symon would have needed. Perhaps his earlier guess of what creature the print in the sand belonged to was influencing his perception now... but this was a hole large enough to fit a bear. Not like one of those massive grizzly bears twice Symon's size at least, but he wasn't too fond of the prospect of fighting even a smaller bear.

He was really glad he'd taken some time instead of rushing into the building; regardless of what it was, it was big enough that he wouldn't have stood a chance. Symon was confident it was, judging by how clean the print he found was and the lack of any outside. With a simple but hopefully effective plan in mind, he grabbed a fist-sized brick from the ground and shoved it into his pocket -- hardly a great weapon but it would probably help him bash through a centipede's rough carapace.

Stolen novel; please report.

He doubted he could get any extra useful information from here on the sands outside, but what if he got on top of the collapsed tower? The angle meant it would be a steep climb for the first few metres, before gradually levelling off -- a difficult but very possible challenge thanks to the multitude of deep cracks to serve as hand and footholds. With a final muttered "You got this," Symon began his ascent.

Being a fairly skinny guy and of average height -- coupled with having next to no belongings on him except for his clothes, some centipede parts, and a small loose brick he'd picked up -- Symon didn't have too much weight to lift. Still, he'd never been rock climbing and only had one leg capable of supporting his weight. The slashes on his arm were still painful, although didn't mechanically impede him. He would fully extend his arms to the highest handholds he could, then awkwardly hop up with his single good leg while simultaneously pulling himself up with his arms. It was slow going, but he eventually found a rhythm to the process.

He'd managed to climb a little over one and a half body lengths before he made a mistake. He'd managed a secure handhold, but when he hopped upwards, his foot couldn't wedge itself into the spot he wanted to. There was so much loose sand in the crack that his foot would just slip out the moment he put any of his weight on it.

His heart was hammering in his chest as held himself onto the wall with just his hands, his foot continually kicking at the crack trying to dig out the sand and get a proper grip.

His arms were burning by now as he dangled, the panicked need to prevent himself from falling warring with the need to make as little noise as possible. He kicked and kicked, slowly pulling and relaxing his arms to try and find a more comfortable position before he eventually managed to plant his foot securely. He let out a ragged sigh as he gave his arms a chance to relax -- it had felt like an eternity for what must have been less than a minute of struggle.

After his scare, he took his time to brush out any sand in his way first, and slowly made his way to the top. After five or so metres the tower levelled off to a steep incline instead of a sheer wall, allowing him to finally scramble up to the top and stand on shaky legs. He let out a quiet sigh of relief -- he wasn't afraid of heights, but that might have just changed...

A few windows were serving as skylights, so he belly crawled to the edge of one, fearful of slipping off. Slowly, ever so slowly, he poked his head over the lip and peered down. Glancing around, he saw more of the same, nothing but shadows, sand, and -- there! He could see large outline of something pressed up against the wall on the same side as the windows he'd looked through.

That explains why I couldn't see it...

And what he did see wasn't great. It was more catlike than bearish but had the worst elements of both. It was furred, with a lithe form he'd associate with a panther or cheetah, but with a stockier head and massive paws. It stretched out in a way remarkably similar to a house cat and let out a massive yawn as if deliberately showing off its equally large fangs. Staring at the beast, he seriously considered giving up and just risking a night out on the sands. He reminded himself that he needed the vitality from this creature to even have a chance of making it to the trees and, more importantly, the water they must be living off. Plus, this was the only shelter he'd seen, even considering the view afforded by his new vantage point.

He wanted to sigh but kept his mouth shut this close to the beast, instead carefully picking his way towards the half-collapsed entrance to the tower. He held onto his centipede mandible in one hand and summoned the grey thread of seize in the other, his draining ability at the ready. It felt like he was walking a poorly trained dog who had just smelled something interesting, the thread feeling like it was trying to pull him down towards the creature.

Worried he'd be pulled down through the hole in the roof by his own ability, he wedged his fingers into cracks in the roof to maintain his position. After a few moments, he realised it was all in his head -- he was just feeling an odd eager sensation from his ability.

He really wished the thread was longer, then he could simply drain the creature from the safety of the roof; instead, the thread barely extended a few centimetres from his hand. He was going to have to lure the creature to a better position, somehow.

Gritting his teeth, he stood up over the main entrance, the only one large enough for the creature to fit, and pulled the small brick he'd found out of his pocket. After a deep breath, he lifted the brick into the air before throwing it into the entranceway as hard as he could.

The ancient brick shattered on impact, letting out a loud clap that echoed through the tower. He dropped into a crouch at the same time the tower's resident reacted -- it let out a low growl and began padding towards the disturbance with the grace of an expert hunter. Symon only knew it was moving due to his spying from above -- without a visual through the gaps, its silent steps gave no clue that it was on the prowl.

He stood perfectly still as he waited for the creature to slowly pad its way past his position and towards the entrance. Symon knew the windows were too small for the creature to comfortably fit through, so if it wanted to go outside it couldn't be going anywhere else.

Symon mirrored the bearcat's movements from his position on the roof, slowly creeping his way as close to the rounded edge of the tower as he could without falling off. Shakily, he stood to his full height just as he saw the beast's head poke out of the entrance, only a few metres directly below Symon. He watched as it pulled back its lips, drawing a deep huff of breath in through its nose.

The beast glanced left, then right, as if considering something. Eyes wide, Symon quickly leaned back right before the beast finally looked straight up.

He chewed on his lip nervously, listening to the stones getting scuffed around as it cautiously padded its way through the half-collapsed entrance, the rest of its body directly below him and separated only by the stone roof. It was a tight fit for the creature, slowed down even further by the jagged stones all over the floor, remnants of the brick he'd thrown. He adjusted his grip on his centipede mandible, palms sweaty from a potent mixture of anxiety and sweltering heat. His draining magic twitched excitedly at his fingertips.

As soon as the creature's front half made it through the entrance, he took a deep breath, spread his arms wide, and let himself slip off the edge towards the monster.