Thirsty. That was the feeling the tortoise experienced when it got up. This was odd. Even though it was young, it should have a supply of water stockpiled in its body for a few days. It didn't drink any water directly, but the cactus's juices were more than enough. Stumbling out of the safety of its burrow, it found out why.

An unbearable pressure on its body and searing heat. Yet, the time didn't match up with the afternoon. Morning, with the sun barely peeking over a distant land. The sunrise was beautiful and accompanied by a pink sky.

Air that seemed to steal every drop of water it could. Rather than dry, it was wet and calling for its brethren like when the tortoise soaked in the lake. The climate was humid, making things feel hot and oppressive. Along with that was a sense of discomfort and foreboding.

For the first time, the tortoise considered leaving the oasis. Something about the oasis felt unwelcoming. Not that leaving would do any good as this humidity wasn't isolated to this area. Perhaps the entire wasteland was in this state, with every surviving tortoise being affected.

If things were this bad now, then what of later? Would the oasis itself dry up and leave the land as a true waste, never to recover? How devastating. To the tortoise, this was the entire world. Every day it's been here, it has provided for it while pushing it away. A land too good for the tortoise but one it needed for now.

Water, it wanted water. It didn't matter what kind of water. Even water contaminated by iron was acceptable. Anything that could sate its needs. Without water, it would die from dehydration. A fate shared by many in these wastes but a joke to ones living next to an oasis.

On the way, the tortoise met a few familiar faces. The fox was lying on the ground on the outskirts, barely alive. Only the gentle rising and fall of its chest showed that it still lived. Eyes peeked out from hardy underbrush that survived the wind's wrath, the local vultures. In the shade of a rock, a lone toad sprawled.

They had their ways of avoiding the full brunt of the heat. These methods will be tested to the extremes. The tortoise's own plan was to get a drink and then return to the burrow. Underground, it would be cooler and out of the sun. It'd still be humid, just more bearable.

The oasis was a sight for sore eyes. In other words, its condition made ones eyes sore. The water was still a faint red but it was starting to turn brown. On its shores was some sort of reddish mud. As it walked closer, a sudden movement to its side shocked it. A group of insects jumped off a plant, leaving behind an empty husk covered in holes. Grasshoppers, in greater numbers than before, seemingly unaffected by the climate.

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Its instincts deemed them as not dangerous, but the tortoise kept its eyes on them until they were at a distance before continuing. Who knows how many times its instincts will be proven wrong in its lifetime.

As it approached the lake, its feet sunk into the sludge. The bank was unstable and could not help but start a depression as soon as the tortoise came to withdraw some water. This gunk composed of rusting iron and mud clung to the tortoise. The tortoise could barely reach the actual water without sinking in fully. Legs, shell, and most of its neck got a coating of muck. However, it was worth it as it finally could take a sip.

Nasty. A taste that could only be defined as sweet in a repulsive way. Like a candy cane coated with urine. The first thought that came to mind was to spit it out. The second was to drink it again. Like how the best spice was hunger, thirst would make animals drink from the worst sources imaginable. Not that iron water was bad; it was actually healthy in some cases. Nonetheless, an excess of any mineral in the body was a bad thing.

For now, considering the circumstances, drinking this water was necessary. If its thirst was any less, it would abstain from drinking, hoping for another source to reveal itself or eating another cactus. The only reason it didn't now was due to the fact it desired just water, it wasn't hungry just yet. That, and it hadn't seen any cacti on the way. It walked around fairly set paths, making it clear out the foods it liked, unfortunately. The possibility of spreading out to find a cactus instead of risking itself in the water never came up, especially with the heat clouding thoughts.

Speaking of clouds, the dark clouds mentioned before were still there, hanging off in the sky. Close enough to see, too far to care. Perhaps these clouds could grant some rainfall and give the oasis some reprieve. It could revive these forsaken lands, or at least alleviate a few issues. What an optimistic way of putting it.

A problem found itself in the tortoise's claws. Now that it entered the mud, leaving was harder. The mud tugged on the tortoise's body as it tried to get out, sucking on its body. With every step, the tortoise dug into the walls of the lake, breaking it apart and mixing it with the mud. Both increasing the amount of mud and hardening it, with little traction granted. At one point, its head was dragged under, making it so its entire body was lubricated with this stuff.

Of course, this was not the end. A few more concentrated efforts to escape later and it managed to drag itself ashore. Except, now it had to bear the weight of its shell and the very earth upon its back. It breathed out and blinked a few times, expelling some of the mud on its face. Other than that, it didn't really bother trying to get it off. The reason being is that it felt good. It was cool and soft to the touch, cushioning the tortoise.