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She'd made a grave mistake.

The distant mountains called to her across the desert and she had answered dutifully. A moth to a flame, ignorant of what such a perilous journey across the desert would entail - the warrior was woefully unprepared.

Jet black fur soaked up the midday sun as she trudged onward towards a mirage of palms and pools of glistening blue, body boiling and throat parched. Shade had become a dream of which only existed in the shimmering image before her, now stretching and bending with the sway of her body.

The sway became a swirl of sand - she fell to her knees and retched, staring numbly at the damp sand. By now she knew, her body was well and truly empty

Closing her eyes she willed the spinning in her head to stop.