Shy Deer Steppes Spirits in my head and they won't go

There wasn't much in the steppe. Potema knew that, but that didn't stop her from passing through the inhospitable sandy stretch on her way into the Haunted Wood. Plants grew in strange places, she knew that. Perhaps she would find a clump or two of a strange plant that she could test out for herself. Even snakes would be a useful find — snake skin could be used for binding wounds if prepared correctly.

This place wasn't a true desert — Inigo had told her of the deserts of his youth; the great expanses of red sand that lasted for miles on end, with orange mounds of rock as numerous as the trees here — but that didn't excuse the fact that this place was a dry wasteland. Even passing through here she could feel the moisture from her body leaving her. The white witch licked her lips, hoping to get a drink before she exited the steppe. Her single eye caught the flicker of light that denoted the reflection of the sun on water and she instantly walked towards it. Unfortunately for her she was not the only one who was in search of water in the barren wasteland. Another pale female lapped its murky depths and Potema could see that the rare water source was not going to last long. She stood by the pool's edge and began drinking its gritty water, trying to get as much water in her system as she could, her eye flickering towards the other woman occasionally.