When the tortoise woke up, the pond had almost completely dried up, with only a few centimeters left that were quickly becoming mud. No longer was it homely in any way. It looked up towards the direction the storm had assaulted and still saw some dark clouds, waiting for it, calling for it. Yet, these same clouds were traveling farther away, eclipsing the horizon. Slower than normal clouds but not stationary. It would not wait for the tortoise.
After a good rest, the tortoise found that desire to leave to still be there. No, it was even stronger. A few specks of green lined the land in the distance by holes in the ground formed by hail and rain. These could be hardy weeds leaving behind a trail of breadcrumbs or locusts flying away and leaving behind despair. A path for the tortoise to follow with snacks and drinks provided free of charge, destination unknown.
Either that or stay with a locust infested oasis. A place with water but no food other than the locusts. A life full of exploration and countless dangers or the safe and boring option that would only require a bit of fasting. Logically, the best option would be to stay. An adult tortoise, on the other hand, would have the leisure to leave and head out to find someplace new without worry as their body could handle it. This was a baby tortoise, not even a month old and wounded. Yet, it wanted to leave.
The determining factor of whether or not it'd leave would be if it could move in the first place. It got up and its muscles ached a bit but the pain was mostly gone. Although the injuries weren't gone, it had recovered enough to resume normal functions without a problem. Wandering off into the desert was not a normal function. That didn't hold much weight in its eyes and it decided to head out. This was a trip that would hopefully bring it to a new land that was better. The grass was always greener on the other side of the veritable wasteland.
Not to be outdone, another resident of the oasis made the same exact decision, the vulture. The bird flew far ahead of the tortoise, towards the heart of the storm. Such a sight furthered the tortoise's resolve. It was not insane; another had the same option as it and took it. Not just the vulture, but the fox too. It was far ahead on foot, walking while sniffing around at the ground. These creatures that had relied on the oasis for the lifestyle collectively abandoned it after several stressful events and attempted to find a new place to re-establish their life at.
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With the tortoise's slow speed, it had no way of catching up. It went at its own pace, passing through these ravaged lands. Hail and heavy rain had left the ground battered and covered in holes. Within a few days, these dents upon the earth would be wiped clean like a slate. All evidence of the storm would be erased with it. Right now, these were places full of life. Water was cupped within these craters and weeds sprouted up all around them, forming miniature gardens. As the tortoise walked by, it would eat and drink from them, but wouldn't go as far as to destroy these mini-ecosystems, just a little from each. Not that nature wouldn't stamp them out anyways given enough time.
Given enough time, everything would die. Life is about what is happening now, not what will happen later. Which is why the tortoise chose to leave the oasis even though it would right itself. Not a matter of logic but feeling and emotion. A feeling of now. It couldn't help but take a quick glance behind, towards the oasis. There lied a tortoise, one of its brethren. This other tortoise was perfectly healthy, escaping the storm in some unique way. The point was that it was staring at the direction of the storm, yet refused to move. Experience, instinct, emotion. Often conflicting, sometimes working together. Who knew what guided that tortoise, but it stayed.
Hours passed and the storm got further and further away. The tortoise was falling behind. The decision had been made and the deed was done. However, the other side of the deal wasn't cooperating nor was it expected to. Even thought the tortoise chose to follow the storm, the storm chose to move on without it. Was it too late? Should the tortoise have left yesterday when it first got that feeling? Or did it never stand a chance with its slow speed?
Whatever it was, the storm left behind a very obvious trail so the tortoise could still go down this path. It did not waver. Not all shared its optimism. The fox kept stopping and looking behind despite being so much farther ahead. Eventually, the tortoise even passed it in its hesitation. The path lined with food and drink was very good for morale. Meanwhile, the fox, being a carnivore, only had some water to reward it for its troubles and might be unable to find something to eat for days or even weeks. At least at the oasis it could eat locusts. In reality, the fox did not have much of a reason at all to follow the storm.
Meanwhile, the vulture, seemingly blessed by the heavens with its gift of flight was a speck in the distant sky. A speck that combined with the storm. The vulture had done what they could not catch up with the storm for better or worse. Perhaps it would be granted a meeting with that mysterious being. Who knew what the future had in store.