Wild Berry Meadow Feels like we only go backwards

For Juria

A full day of traveling South had brought the nomad across multiple fields and meadows, broken up only intermittently by forest. She couldn't grasp just how much green there was in these lands. Green mean water and water meant life. Much of her family's traditions and culture centered on the worship of such a scarce resource. Ahhotep could only wonder why her ancestors had chosen Sikarra as their final resting place instead of venturing out to see what other riches the great world had to offer.

The sun sunk low beneath the horizon, with only a few streaks of light bouncing from the clouds. Ahhotep contemplated traveling under the coolenss of night, but her paws were weary. The sweet small of ripening berries lured her towards patches of bramble. Would this be a suitible place for rest?