Sotet hammers the final wooden stake into the hardened dirt—securing the waterproof covering atop their temporary shelter. Adahlia watches him work from a short distance away. She crosses both arms and rubs the outside of her sleeves with up and down motions of her hands. The last of the two suns set almost thirty minutes ago, and the air has grown quite cold.
“Why can’t we build a stone cottage like before? I’m cold, Sotet,” Adahlia exclaims through chattering teeth.
Diyrl laughs and waves Adahlia over. She fans the roaring fire in front of her and then adds to it with a gout of flame. The fire rages brighter for a moment before settling back to a decent level. “Then come sit by the fire, silly child,” She jokes. “And let Sotet finish his work. I do not think he needs four eyes to get the job done.”
Sotet nods agreement. “Yes, Adahlia. Please sit by the fire. Warm yourself. I will be along soon. Then, we’ll eat.”
Adahlia turns to leave. She glances over her shoulder once and then moves in the direction of the camp’s fire. She considers sitting next to Diyrl for warmth. However, the wyvern’s scales remind her of cold tile and she decides against it. Adahlia watches Sotet put the finishing touches on the shelter from across the roaring flames.
Sotet talks as he works. “We’ve used nearly a fourth of the laser’s power cell. We don’t dare deplete it. We will build a more sturdy structure in the coming days. But for now, most of our energy must be devoted to the excavation and preparation of a suitable environment to cultivate the cryo cultures. I don’t know about Diyrl, but I can feel my strength waning. I must have meat. And soon.”
Sotet turns his attention to Diyrl. “In your time on the Wandering Sands, have you seen evidence of any small creatures? Creatures suitable as game?”
Diyrl gives Sotet her usual wolfish grin. “Besides you two? Ha ha. Of course. But finding them where they burrow is only half the trouble. What lives beneath the dirt is no fair thing to look upon.”
Adahlia stops poking the fire with a twig and stares at Diyrl. Fear creeps into her brain and Adahlia glances at the dirt beneath her crossed legs. “Beneath the dirt?” Adahlia whispers softly.
Diyrl roars with laughter and flaps her wings—causing the flames to jitter and fan out erratically. “I’m mostly kidding, Adahlia. Mostly. However, there are large mammalian creatures which live under the dirt. Tunnelers, I call them. I have hunted them many times. They usually leave creatures on the surface alone. Judging from their habits; I would guess they are cannibalistic in nature. I would also venture to guess that if they are not; there must be something else they are feeding on. I’ve seen evidence of other smaller burrows, but have never actually seen the creatures living in them. And believe me, I have tried. Even going so far as to stake out a burrow for two days and a night. When I first arrived on the Wandering Sands, all I did was explore. During my first few cycles here, I witnessed large flocks of small flying creatures with bright yellow wings. Oh, the screeching sounds they made were terrible. But as time went by; their numbers became fewer and fewer. Until finally, I stopped seeing them altogether. It took so many of them to keep me satiated that I wonder if I am not the reason they have either died out or gone into hiding. There are also small swimming things in some of the watering holes I have come across. Probably creatures deposited there by former exiles to the Wandering Sands. There were no such creatures at the oasis where I was struck by the spear. I would not go back there even if there were.”
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Sotet shakes his head vigorously but continues working on the shelter. “I would not ask you to. We can make due here. Besides, this new watering hole may serve to help other visitors to this world in the future. Just as other watering holes have helped to sustain you in the past. We may even find our way back to it again.”
Sotet stops working and moves with tired steps toward the fire. Adahlia pats the ground beside her, and Sotet drops down at her side. Adahlia snuggles very close to Sotet, enjoying the warmth of his plumage. She glances up at him—a flicker of worry on her youthful face.
“Sotet? Are you okay?” Adahlia exclaims and strokes the feathers on the upper part of Sotet’s wing.
“No, little one. I am not,” Sotet replies. “I am thinking of Kotoro…And of our clutchlings. How worried she will be. Six world cycles. For six world cycles, she will spin tales for the children about where I am. She will cry herself to sleep at night and speak to me as if I am by her side. But I will not be there. And I will do the same—Hoping that maybe she will hear me. In her heart.”
Diyrl tilts her head and studies Sotet. “We have all lost something, Sotet. We understand your pain. My children were very small when I was exiled to the Wandering Sands. My hatchlings were barely able to open their eyes when my mate took them and fled halfway across the world. My dragonets—born the previous life line—were just learning to fly. He never gave me a chance to wish them goodbye. Or to explain what had really happened. To them, I am but a memory’s shadow. At least, you have someone to keep your memory alive. And what of sweet Adahlia? Do you believe that she does not feel pain for her mother? If we are going to be together for six world cycles; we had better make the most of it. We do not have the luxury of wallowing in self-pity. Not if we want to survive. Your clutchlings need you, Sotet. We need you. Wake up from your sorrow. As I was forced to do. Forge ahead. You do not go forward alone.”
Sotet meets Diyrl’s gaze and offers her a coy smile. “And, I thought you didn’t care?!”
Diyrl settles down in the dirt and coils her spiked tail around so that it shields her face. All that remains visible is her eyes. “Oh, I don’t. I’m just bored. I like to hear myself talk.”
Adahlia bursts into laughter and nestles further into Sotet’s feathers. “I’m hungry, Sotet. When do we eat?”
Sotet glances over at the pack which has their supplies but lacks the energy and fortitude to get up and retrieve it. He lets out a deep sigh. “I will procure us something—“
Before he can finish speaking, Diyrl whips her tail through the air and uses it to snatch up the pack Sotet was staring at. She hurls it playfully in his direction. The pack barely clears the flames and lands on the dirt in front of Sotet. Diyrl grins satisfactorily. “There you go.”
Sotet glares at Diyrl but does not utter a word. However, Adahlia voices her dismay. “Diyrl?! You almost burned our supplies.”
“But, I didn’t,” Diyrl counters with her usual smile. “But, I didn’t!”
Sotet lets out another deep sigh before shaking his head and rummaging through the pack for their next meal.