Who would have thought that getting vaporized would put you in such a drab place as this. Kanaya looked around at the ever changing dreamscape, though it seemed that this particular one decided that the only location Kanaya needed was a huge desert wasteland. And not even the pretty kind with an oasis like hers! Not in the slightest. In contrast, this was a little piece of the Land of Sand and Zephyr and it looked utterly bland. The sun blazed overhead relentless and unyeilding, scorching her pale skin. She heaved a great sigh, casually dusting off her skirt which had been slightly marred by her unfortunate last moments ending.
Scorched at the rim and ashen all over, the atrotious black mark was very visible and hideous in contrast to her crimson skirt. She licked her thumb and furiously rubbed against the smudge in false hope of removing the irritating seared blemish. Unfortunately, seeing that the stain was there to stay, she dropped her hand from her attempted cleansing in a dignified yet frustrated manner and looked up, her hand to her face across her forehead like a visor. The sun was, if possible, becoming even more abrasive. Despite a popular belief, the dead, while they did not really perceive any major injuries, could still feel discomfort and her level was approaching fast. She knew she needed to find shelter. Leaning down to pour the sand out of her flats, she began to traverse the dusty barren wasteland in search of shelter.
She continued walking and trudging through the dunes and underbrush for what seemed like miles. It was high noon now, if time still applied in the afterlife and her ankles were weary from the hours of trecking. Had she been feeling particularly temperamental and childish she could have fell to her knees and beat the ground, screaming how unfair it was to have been rewarded with such a horrible choice of venue. However her pride still held and she continued hiking until she came across a lone acacia a few hundred meters away. Oh look, shade! Finally, a place she could actually rest. Granted she was used to this kind of heat, living in the desert and all, but everywhere else nearby was... sandy. And everyone knows that sand is terrible for dresses. She thanked whatever being had found fortune upon her and her pace quickened surprisingly and enthusiastically towards the shelter. She stepped cautiously towards the tree, outstretching her hand and tested for the security. It was doubtful her sanity could have withheld if she had fallen for something as trivial as a mirage.
However, she smiled as her hand solidly grasped the brittle and dehydrated bark and she ran a hand thankfully over the cool ridges and ducked her face under the shade. Pressing her face to the cold bark hidden by shade she breathed a sigh of relief.
The sun passes overhead slowly filling the entire area with a blistering uncomfortable warmth. There was nothing but sand for miles around. The only forms of life were the desert shrubs and the equine creatures grazing lazily around her. The lone evaporated acacia tree sits in the middle of the forsaken hellhole, the sole source of shade along with the small light lavender watering hole saturating the sandy landscape a few hundred meters away from the horses. If it were obvious to anyone, it was needless to say she was beyond the grasp of her bearings.
