Brittle grass crunched under Makotae’s paws as he ran. Thirteen hands high at the shoulder, the Great Wolf’s strides rushed over the ailing ground. Dried remains of bushes dotted barren grassland while thin, bare trees reached skeletal branches toward a grey-clouded sky.

If the area around Guardian Ng’ombe’s territory had looked withered, this part looked a couple of breaths away from death, and the supplies in Makotae’s saddlebags wouldn’t last much longer.

Lilau swayed in Makotae’s saddle. The speed of their flight blew her long hair out behind her, its near colorless strands paler than the plants.

They had been traveling west near non-stop for many days, both of them eager to distance themselves from any Horse Tribe encampments to the east. Their haste had increased Makotae’s hunger, causing him to devour a chunk of their supplies every time they stopped for a brief rest. Only a day’s worth remained. After that, they would be at the mercy of the dying land spread out before them. Lilau didn’t like those odds. She looked up as a peal of thunder rumbled not far in front of them. She didn’t like the sound of that, either.

Makotae’s ears swiveled toward her. Any guesses where a decent shelter might be?

His thoughts entered her mind more as emotions and images than words, a language unique to Great Beasts that Lilau had long ago learned to translate.

Lilau frowned, hugging closer to his thick, black fur as cold, wet air blew past. No. A flash of lightning tore across the sky, followed by two more and a staccato of booms. But I think we should stay far away from any trees.

Agreed. At least we’ll have a chance to fill our waterskins. I’m thirsty.

His thirst had increased alongside his hunger, and they hadn’t seen a water source in days. They were in real danger if they couldn’t find more. As if on cue, a fat raindrop collided with Lilau’s head, followed quickly by its brethren.

Lilau scanned for anything resembling shelter on the flat prairie as Makotae ran on. Nothing appeared, and soon the drizzle became a heavy downpour. Water pelted them both, flowing down their limbs and obscuring their vision.

Makotae whined and stopped. He shifted to let Lilau dismount, then dropped to the ground and curled up into a ball. He watched her with resignation in his eyes as she dug small holes nearby and placed an open waterskin in each one. The little openings made it unlikely the rain would fill them up, but with the downpour, some was bound to end up inside.

Lilau placed the last waterskin and sighed before turning back toward a sodden Makotae. Let me in. If we must be wet, we might as well be slightly warmer.

He untucked just enough to let Lilau curl up against his belly.

They stayed nestled together until the rain stopped and the sun peeked back from under the clouds.

Lilau reluctantly picked her head up from Makotae’s shoulder, taking in the orange hues in the sky. It’s nearly dark. We should build a fire and dry off.

In response, Makotae stood up and shook.

“Hey!” Lilau threw her hands up as water splashed across her in sheets as thick as the storm.

Just drying off. Makotae’s tongue lolled out of his mouth as he stared at her with a canine grin on his face. Who needs fire?

Lilau glared at him. Glad you don’t. Didn’t have to drown me, though.

He snorted. Where’s the fun in that? He pointed his snout at the half-buried waterskins.

Lilau pushed all of her annoyance at him, but it shifted to relief as she retrieved their water. All six were at least half-full. A sliver of hope against the increasing desolation of the grasslands.

She placed the waterskins back into Makotae’s saddlebags before vaulting onto his back. As soon as she settled, he was off, angling toward the nearest leaf-bare tree. Without leaves to help shield them, most of the trees were far too soaked to catch fire. Fortunately, the wind had blown steadily from the west, leaving strips of dry bark on one side of the trunks. A well-placed knife, and chunks of bark came off. She slipped them into a waterproof saddlebag which once held food.

By the time she’d gathered enough for a modest fire, the sun had set and Makotae’s earlier flash of mischievousness had vanished, his white-tipped muzzle and tail drooping near the grass.

I shouldn’t have stopped for so long. His thoughts dragged through Lilau’s mind, thick and heavy with an undertone of remorse.

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Lilau flinched. The stiffness in his limbs bled into her own. It was her fault they’d ridden so far, so quickly, and now he was paying the price.

No. His response rang clear. I wanted to leave Horse Tribe lands just as much as you. We cannot stay in a dying land. Our presence would only add to their suffering, and ours.

While the truth, his thoughts only made her feel worse. She’d done all she could, put her life in danger to parley with the Guardian Ng’ombe in order to give the Horse Tribe a chance at survival. Still, the coming winter would not be kind to them.

There’s nothing more we can do.

I know.

Even if there was, the pull of the sky-river had become too strong to fight. Lilau looked up. The undulating rainbow river flowed in the heavens, bright and clear. The tug in her heart left no question. She must follow, but to what end, she couldn’t fathom. She shook her head. Makotae’s health and comfort were far more important, and right now, he needed rest.

They picked out a thick-branched tree in the distance, Makotae’s night vision bleeding into her own sight as he shared his viewpoint. Lilau’s stomach flopped. After all the years spent together, sharing his sight still made her queasy.

Let’s hope there are no more thunderstorms tonight, Makotae grumbled as he trudged toward their bare shelter. I’d rather not get struck by lightning.

Me either. But, if it drizzles, I’d rather not have the fire go out.

Makotae huffed.

Lilau understood his deeper worry. Rain brought with it cooler winds and colder nights. The summer was giving way to autumn, and without animals to hunt, she had no way of making warmer gear. While bright designs covered the Horse Tribe robes she wore, they were thin and gauzy. Perfect for the heat, but nigh worthless in the cold and wet. They needed to find prey soon if they wanted to survive.

*****

Having a need and finding the solution were two distinct problems. After three more days spent scouring the grasslands for food or water, all Lilau had to show for it were much lighter saddlebags and empty waterskins.

She popped a dried mushroom into her mouth with a grimace. It tasted moldy and bitter. Medicine Chief Feechi had taught her all the edible fungi, and this was one of them. He’d also taught her that its taste was a defense mechanism to avoid getting eaten. Makotae had refused to go near the mushrooms because of it. Lilau had pretended not to notice he’d done it to make sure she had something to eat.

Her stomach ached in equal parts hunger and complaint at the food. She eyed the dead grass as it passed under Makotae’s paws. It held no nutrition, but it would dull the ache and taste better than the fungus.

Makotae jerked right, nearly unseating her from the saddle. Water.

Longing washed over Lilau. They’d gone over a day without, and the thought had become nearly all-consuming.

Makotae’s stride lengthened, all fatigue forgotten.

Soon, Lilau could hear it. The burbling of a creek as it wound its way across the plains. She leaned over Makotae’s shoulders and urged him on. He skidded to a stop at the bank, his head dropping as Lilau slid from his back and plunged her hands into the clear water.

Sweet and cool, it tasted better than anything she’d had in a week. A voice in the back of her head balked at the idea of drinking water straight from an unknown source. The rest of her didn’t care.

Something shiny darted at the corner of her eye as she gulped down another mouthful. She glanced right in time to see the glimmer of fish scales disappear behind a rock a few feet away. With her thirst fading, her next need rose to the fore. Her stomach growled loud enough to hear over Makotae’s lapping tongue.

The creek was narrow, barely as wide as Lilau was tall, and its bottom reached down only a couple of feet. Whatever called the creek home would be equally small. Still, food was food. Lilau wasn’t about to let the chance slip by.

After one more gulp of water, she pulled a net from a saddlebag and walked to where the fish had vanished. Her heart leaped into her throat. Multiple fish, most slightly larger than her hand, lay along the creek’s bottom. Lilau took aim and tossed.

The net spread out as it came down, covering the fishes’ hiding spot in an inescapable trap. Lilau tugged at the rope connecting her to the net, digging her heel into the soft bank as the fish resisted capture. Tails flashed as they writhed. But it would have taken far more than the handful in the net to overcome Lilau’s desperation. With a final heave, half a dozen small, silver fish lay gasping in the grass.

Makotae looked up, ears perked. Food! He trotted over as his tongue worked over his jaws. Are some of those for me?

His hunger merged with her own, nearly washing away all reason as a yawning pit opened up in her core. Lilau gritted her teeth and shooed him away. Not until I cook them. We’re having a hard enough time feeding ourselves. We don’t need parasites.

Makotae whined, but obliged, plunking down in front of her with a forlorn look on his face.

Lilau shook her head and went to work. She extracted each fish from the net, killed it, and cut it open. Two of the six fish had so many worms, their meat wasn’t worth more than bait. Lilau frowned, wishing she’d checked the water quality before drinking. Fortunately, the other four proved much cleaner.

Lilau stole another glance toward the water, half expecting a water Fokla to peer back at her. There were none, of course. The withering had driven nearly all Fokla into Ng’ombe’s domain. The fact any fish remained in the creek was a small miracle.

Makotae complained loudly as they made their way toward the healthiest tree they could find. The sky remained clear after the previous storm, but safe was always better than sodden.

A good thing about the withering — the kindling was in great supply. In quick order, a fire roared to life under a sprawling plains tree, the smell of cooking fish emanating from it in thick waves. It took longer to cook the fish than to eat it.

Soon, all that remained of Lilau’s food was a tail and prickly bones. She considered eating it, too, but a small whine from Makotae changed her mind. She tossed it in his direction, assuaging her growling stomach by staring into the flames.

Think we could find more? Makotae asked as he wrapped around her from behind.

I’m surprised we found any. I figured what remained of the animals would all be with the Fokla.

Makotae’s head tilted. Ng’ombe’s sanctuary looked crowded. Even with so many dying, such a small area can’t sustain many.

I suppose so. Another reason to leave Horse Tribe lands as fast as we can.

Makotae snorted, but stayed silent. He knew as well as she did the withering sat low on the list of why they were leaving.