Shimmering Sands days turn, faster than a minute

after a beat, he melted onto the ground, and the sheepdog stared down at him a moment. "he's dead."  there came the words, whispered shamefully to the sleeping wolf. she could not stay, could not remain, could not face what she'd done. she'd used him, hadn't she? used him to gain the comfort and familiar touch she so craved. stifling a sob, she moved backwards, carefully at first. 

and then she was gone, moving across the sand at a breakneck pace, breath coming laboured and chest ripped raw in an unseen way, as it had when Murdock had died.