Shimmering Sands the erinyes

Her senses were, perhaps, overwhelmed by the scent of salt. It was carried by not only the ocean's breeze, of which she was accustomed to, but permeated the atmosphere of the flat she traversed over. It was hot here, and bright— and where Emaleth stuck out like a sore toe, the kermode bear was camouflaged in sight and odor. Her concentrated journey was abruptly halted by his rumbling, and the youth spun to face the source of the noise with teeth flashing bright against her dark form.

Emaleth squinted her mismatched gaze against the blinding light of the sun, struggling to identify the threat. She did not speak bear— at least, not fluently— and it took her a moment to identify what the sound belonged to. As soon as she did, it took her a moment more to puzzle out the words concealed within the rough dialect. Fool, and midday.

"It is hot," she agreed, a bit irritably. "But there's little choice."

It was the way to Donnelaith, to home.