Shimmering Sands heat death

when she returned, carefully clenching the cupped leaves filled with water, the she-wolf had fallen into a fitful slumber. erzulie set down her burden at the scorched paws, clucking over them briefly before reaching to nudge the other awake. without water, she might slip into a sun-death.
"drink," she ordered in a firm tone, crouched close to ensure that she was heeded. she could not leave the woman here; the harlot mulled over bringing her to rusalka, but now she must ascertain why she had found this one wandering.
"you be havin' a name, beauty?" the seawolf murmured, looking for any signs of the mind-melt that could be fatal or permanent beneath the harshness of the sun.