Hey! I hope you guys enjoy the next chap in this exciting take on the next chapter in the Harry Potter Saga! Enjoy!
Katharine gasped out loud as her feet hit the ground and ker knees buckled. However, a pair of arms gripping her sides kept her from collapsing. She really hated side-apparation. After being captured and restrained, a spell had been cast on her that made her temporarily blind, so she couldn't see any details about the base she had been taken to.
The shackles that she had worn were removed as soon as she and her captors apparated. Now safely, there was no reason to physically restrain the prisoner. Apparently enjoying themselves, or perhaps merely impatient to get out of their robes, her escort chivvied her along with what she considered to be unnecessary roughness. Not that Enforcers of any ilk were noted for their individual diplomacy. Considering whom she had tried to curse, she knew she ought to consider herself fortunate that they had brought her still attached to all her important appendages.
A physical state of being, she knew, that could be altered at any moment. She took a deep breath as she relaxed in the grip of her captors, struggling to catch details of where she was. Not that it helped. People who the Dark Order captured didn't usually last long. And she had a feeling she had a much worse experience waiting for her.
On the other side of the enormous and impressive receiving bay, other troopers were apparating in in pairs, grateful that more of their number had not been lost on the expedition and looking forward to some rest and food. Not to mention, they were more than anxious to remove their dusted and stained robes and armor for cleaning.
Intent on reliving the battle below, they paid no attention to one of their own who fell behind. When he was convinced no one was looking at him, the trooper turned and raced towards the nearest restroom. Once inside, he removed his mask and proceeded to void the contents of his stomach into the nearest sink. He let out a hagged gasp as he turned on the sink, desperate to remove the evidence. Once the sink was clean, he ripped off his gloves and cupped his hands, splashing his face. He gasped as he stared at himself in the mirror. Looking back at him was a young man with pale white skin and wet curly blond hair. His eyes were filled with a combination of fear and horror, and the terror in his expression was palpable. Fortunately, there was no one there to witness his disgrace. He let out a sigh of relief as he pulled his gloves back on and began to wipe the mask clean of blood. But, the door slid open.
Terror gave way to cold fear as he found himself gazing back at Captain Goyle. How much had the senior officer seen? How much did she know? Too much, as it turned out.
"Uhhhh… Captain… this is the men's room." He tried to say, but it came out as a squeak.
Aloof yet commanding, she ignored his remark and indicated the wand he still carried. "SN-2187. I understand you experienced some difficulty with your wand. Please be so good as to submit it for inspection by your division's wandmaker."
"Yes, Captain." How he managed to reply without stammering he did not know. Instinct as opposed to training, he decided. Self-preservation.
"And who gave you permission to remove that mask?"
He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry, Captain. I just wanted… to make sure it was in pristine condition." He prayed that she would believe it, but there was no way to tell from under that emotionless mask.
He could feel her disgust as he struggled to put the mask back over his head. "Report to my division at once," Goyle ordered before turning and briskly striding out of the restroom, the door sliding shut with a bang that made him winch. He turned to look at the terrified man in the mirror.
Worse, he knew miserably, was likely to come later.
—
It was a place where beings went to die. For miles, there was nothing but stretches of sand and hills. It didn't matter out where whether you were a muggle, a witch/wizard, or any other kind of magical creature. You wouldn't last a day out in this weather. You would ultimately end up a sun bleached-up bone, buried beneath the sand. Not that anyone had a reason to come here. Of course, there was one reason that a magical being would come here, which lay beneath the sands. Although the Pyramids were under Ministry sanction, there were miles of hidden tombs, tunnels, caverns under the desert, full of magical relics. However, there were rumors that the relics were cursed. None except a very few, for whom daring was as much a sense as sight or hearing.
"Lumos Maxima." A bright light erupted from the end of a wand, filling one such tunnel with bright light, illuminating one such individual, who slowly strode down the tunnel, guided by the light. Clad in light protective goggles with brown lenses, face mask, gloves, and gray desert robes, the busy figure was burdened with a substantial backpack. The wand in the individual's hand was well worn, but still a valuable tool in these depths. Wielding an assortment of tools, the scavenger was excising an assortment of small devices from one wall. The scavenger ran one hand across the right wall while keeping the wand raised to see the wall clearly. The scavenger murmured softly as it read the symbols on the wall. It's eyes darted across the ground, occasionally letting out a small cheer of delight when the light glistened off a shiny object buried in the ground. Carefully, the scavenger would pick up the objects with its wrapped gloves, to ensure safety from any possible curses that might lay on the artifacts. One after another, bits of booty found their way into the satchel that hung below the slender figure, which was specially jinxed to contain the objects. When the satchel was full, the scavenger secured it shut and commenced a perilous ascent. These tunnels were extremely dangerous, especially the uncharted ones. They were a maze. One wrong move, and you could be lost down there forever, and no one would ever know.
"Point me." The scavenger whispered, causing the wand to spin in the scavenger's palm, leading the scavenger through the underground maze, avoiding sharp projections and threatening gaps in the wall. Arriving at the bottom of the desert canyon, the figure headed toward a distant slit of sunlight. Upon reaching the exit, she paused at the gate and pushed, pressing the hidden switch to cause the hidden door to slide open, instantly bathing the scavenger in heat and light. She grunted as she climbed out, and turned to look back at the door.
"Sealus movelus." The scavenger flicked her wand, causing the door to slide shut with a large thud. She then flicked her wand, causing a wall of sand to cover the door. After all, this was her spot, and she had to make sure no one else found it.
Outside the caverns and at last clear of danger, the scavenger shoved the goggles up on her forehead and squinted at the blasted surroundings. She was nearly twenty, with dark red hair, darker brown eyes, and a hint of something deeper within. After her years of work in the sun, her skin was tanned dark, with a splash of freckles across her face. There was a freshness about her that the surrounding harsh landscape had failed to eliminate. Anyone glancing at her would have thought her soft: a serious error of judgment. It had been a respectable day's work, enough to ensure she would eat tonight, and maybe a little extra. Pulling a canteen from her belt, she wiped sweat from her face and shook the remaining contents of the container into her upturned mouth. There should be more, she told herself as she began tapping the side of the canteen. "
"The last few drops sometimes clung stubbornly to the insulated interior. She let out a groan of frustration.
"Aw, bloody hell." She cursed. She pulled out her wand and pointed at the canteen.
"Aguamenti." She cursed when the spell barely filled half the canteen.
"Oh well, down the hatch." She gulped the water, and tried not to gag. Spellwater tasted horrible.
Concluding that she had drained the container of all its contents, she reattached it to her belt facing inward. The satchel and the larger piece of salvage were secured to a piece of wood, which she sent sliding down the mountain of sand in front of her.
A second shard of wood served as a sled for the girl to follow the results of the day's labor down the dune slope. Practice allowed her to manipulate the wood skillfully enough so that she neither fell off nor crashed into any of the rocks that littered the dune face.
At the bottom she stood and dusted herself off. "Her dun-hued garb was desert basic, designed to protect the wearer from the sun and preserve body moisture. It was inexpensive, easily repaired, and unlovely.
"Accio Firebolt!" she turned and held her hand out. A minute later, the wind whistled as the broom shot over a dune and stopped right next to her. Then again, this broom was like her, worn and weathered. The ends were a little frayed, and the wood was a bit cracked and weathered. But, still pretty reliable. She slung her satchel over her shoulder before she climbed onto the Firebolt. She took off into the air, ripping up a wave of sand behind her. As she flew through the air, she couldn't help the smile that came across her face. Then, she pulled the broom into a deep dive, pulling up at the last minute, almost hitting a dune.
That was her life, May reflected: a succession of anxious moments, interrupted only by the novelty of occasional panic. All part and parcel of trying to survive on a backwater place as harsh and unforgiving as this one. She occasionally had to dodge large rock outcroppings and sand dunes.
Racing along the flat desert floor, she pitched her head back, smiling as she felt the wind passing around her.
Lifting, the broom rose over the jagged rock before it, soaring to a necessary height. For the hell of it, she executed a barrel roll; a small moment of exhilaration in an otherwise humdrum existence. There was something about flying that just felt… right. It felt like a part of her. She felt at peace, flying and twirling through the air.
By the time she came out of it, Tralina Outpost was plainly visible just ahead. Tralina: one of the only civilized spots for miles, repository of manifold cultures, offering to its myriad inhabitants a never-ending succession of entertainment, education, and enjoyable distractions.
Her smile twisted. Tralina was a functioning armpit of a town and nothing more, a place where no one asked questions and everyone went quietly about their own business. It was far enough out of Ministry influence that people could conduct business free from the threat of arrest.
It was just large and developed enough that if you dropped dead in the street, there was a fifty percent chance someone might go to the trouble of raking up your body and passing it along to a local cremator, provided there were funds available to pay for your chosen means of disposal. Or, your body would just be transfigured into a rock or a stick and tossed into the desert. Otherwise, the deserts of Egypt would take care of the remains in their own good time, and without rendering any opinions on the virtues of the deceased.
As long as she could work, May had no intention of suffering such a fate. No one does, of course. Death displays nothing if not variety in its methods, which are often surprising and sometimes amusing. She stopped her broom and cast the appropriate anti-burgle charms, then unloaded her salvage and hauled it toward the community structure that had been built for that purpose and was open to all. No one offered to help her with the heavy load. In Tralina, youth and gender were no barrier to neighborhood indifference.
Once inside the tented, shaded structure, she unpacked the results of the day's work, and began cleaning. When it came to salvage, appearance did matter. But, she had to be careful. Many of these artifacts had ancient curses and jinxes on them, and one touch with bare skin could be lethal. Take last week. There had been a scavenger, Travin, who had found an entire gold necklace hidden in a pyramid. He had been so ecstatic when he found it that when he took it out to clean, he forgot his gloves. Needless to say, the second that he grabbed it, the result was quite horrific. The curse literally ripped him to pieces and splattered the remains all over the marketplace. Not that that stopped four other scavangers from fighting over the necklace. This was perhaps as dangerous as the excavation itself..
Around her, other scavengers were doing the same. Humans and nonhumans communicated freely, commenting on one another's findings and exchanging gossip, mostly in the local patois. They filled a good deal of the available workspace. When not chatting amiably with one another, they strove to learn where their competitors were finding their best salvage.
Also, they were not above stealing from one another when the opportunity presented itself, even if it had to potential to rip you to shreds. Needless to say, May kept a close eye on her goods.
Coming up beside her, one of Garnook's assistants barked at her and gestured in her direction with his staff, implying it would be in her best interests to focus on her work and hurry it up. Without another glance in the direction of the mother and child, May returned to her own work. It was important to make sure to remove all the dust to see what kind of metal it was. Gold got her more than silver would. Especially if it was encrusted with jewels. Age was a factor as well. The older, the better.
Finishing sooner than she expected, she made her way across the tent to the exchange booth. Essentially, the booth was a metal stand with a tent draped over it. Dark brown from rust and age, it was surrounded by piles of recently purchased components. In contrast to the dominant tenting, it boasted a solid suspended ceiling in the form of another piece of salvaged metal. In Tralina, the most disagreeable part of surrendering salvage was taking payment. This was due not to the quality of the money one received as payment but to the nature of the individual distributing it. Especially since that individual was a goblin.
The lumpish shape seated slightly above and in front of her was not human. The goblin may have been several feet smaller, but thanks to his large booth, he still was able to leer down at her. He had a swarthy, clever face, a pointed beard and very long fingers and feet. He had slick black hair that looked like a dead cat, and he was very winkled. While she knew he looked forward to their occasional business dealings, she could not say the same. Since that would have required not only listening to him but looking at him, she always strove to keep their encounters as brief as possible. It wasn't that she was prejudiced against goblins, she just really hated this one.
There were plenty of rumors about him. Based on what she had heard, he had been a top official at Gringotts, until he had been forcibly removed by the Ministry after the Second Wizarding War because of supposed dealings with Death Eaters. So, he had traveled out here and become a black market dealer in artifacts that would buy artifacts from scavangers. Personally, May didn't care what his story was, as long as she got paid.
Garnook, on the other hand, was delighted to extend their encounters for as long as she could stand it. He always took his time when examining her pieces, letting his gaze rove slowly over everything she put before him, making her wait. He would put on his magnifying monacle, which made his eyes look especially creepy. Only when the bounds of common courtesy had been markedly surpassed did he deign to acknowledge her presence.
"May. A decent offering, if nothing remarkable. Based on these materials… I'll give you five Galleons and six sickles." She did not give him the pleasure of seeing her disappointment. She didn't budge, though.
"Seven." His eyes narrowed to slits as his dark eyes met her brown eyes.
"Six galleons." He countered. She crossed her arms.
"Six galleons and ten sickles." They stared at each other, until Garnook laughed and smiled at her.
"Very well, you drive a hard bargain." He reached down and pulled out a large bag, clearly taking his time to pull out each galleon and sickle and stacking them on top of each other in front of May. When he was done, she quickly stuffed them into a leather bag attached on her belt.
"That's my girl," Garnook commended her. Not replying, she turned and left, moving as quickly as she could without alerting him to the fact that his presence disgusted her. She could feel his eyes all over her until she exited the big tent.
She strode through the settlement, her pay clinking against her leg. Her empty canteen thudded on her right. So, she headed for the Howling Werewolf, the only place that people around here went to relax and get a drink. The guy running was alright, a grizzled wizard named Callner. It also was the only place that one could get refills of clean water. Of course, most guys went for the entertainment as well. Callner had the best looking girls in the closest hundred miles. May pushed open the doors and strode in, making her way to the bar. She slid in, and Callner glanced at her as he cleaned a glass.
"The usual, Callner." He nodded, filled a glass with firewhiskey and slid it over to her. She gulped it down, feeling the burn in her throat. She pulled out her canteen and handed it to him, along with three of her sickles.
"Well, look who it is." May turned to see her friend Jenny slide into the seat next to her. May smiled. Jenny was one of the few people in this place she actually considered a friend. She was one of Callner's girls, who preformed in the tavern on nights, mainly singing in skimpy outfits. That's what she was wearing right now, actually. She was dressed in a deep blue strapless dress that clung to her lean figure perfectly, and did a great job of showing off her shoulders and chest. She was a year younger than Jenny, but they still got along great.
"Griffin, you're on in ten." Callner said as he handed May back a full canteen. Jenny nodded as May clipped the canteen back on her belt.
"So, find anything interesting today?" May nodded.
"The usual. Haggled Garnook to six galleons for the lot." Jenny groaned.
"That's it? I swear, that goblin robs you blind." May rolled her eyes.
"Better than nothing." Jenny sighed in frustration.
"Why do you do this, May?" May sighed as she took another gulp.
"Come on, May! I mean, you risk your life every day crawling around in those tunnels, digging up all those cursed objects that might kill you with the slightest touch, and yet you barely make enough for food!" May simply shrugged.
"It's a living." Jenny looked flabbergasted.
"Look, I have an offer." May shook her head.
"Again, no, Jenny." She sighed in frustration.
"Look, I'm not saying that you make it a permanent gig. Come on, you know Callner would say yes in a heartbeat. Just slip on a red dress and sing a few nights. You'd make in one night what that shriveled old fart pays you in two weeks. Maybe even more. Let's face it, a lot of guys here would pay big to see you show off some skin." May actually laughed.
"Thanks, Jen, but that's not me. I'll stick to crawling through tunnels." Jenny rolled her eyes as she adjusted her sleek black hair.
"Same old May…" she took a deep gulp of her own Firewhiskey.
"I'm leaving, May." May turned and stared at her friend with surprise.
"What?" Jenny nodded.
"Yep. Tonight's my last night on stage. I'm leaving tomorrow. I worked out a deal with that cute trader over there. I paid him off with most of my earnings for fake documentation, and he's taking me to France. I'm off to Paris! Good food, culture, a better life!" Jenny grinned. May chuckled as she rolled her eyes.
"Congratulations, you deserve it." Jenny smiled.
"Why don't you come with me?" she asked. May blinked in confusion.
"Huh?" Jenny had an excited look on her face.
"Come on! Don't waste your life out here! Get out, see the world!" May actually looked at Jenny with a surprised expression.
"Come on, come with me! Leave this desert hell, and start a new life! Meet a cute guy, see the world! Hell, join the Resistance!" May looked at Jenny for a long silent minute.
"I… can't." Jenny's shoulders sagged in disappointment.
"Why?" she demanded.
"You know why." May answered before taking a drink. Jenny let out a loud groan and looked like she wanted to run her hands through her face, but didn't want to mess up her make-up, since she was about to go on.
"Not this again!" May nodded firmly.
"My family will be back. They have to come back. One day." Jenny sighed in frustration.
"I get it, I really do. I miss my family too sometimes, May, but you can't waste your life waiting for something that might never happen. Move on with your life." May was silent, staring down at her drink.
"I'm sorry, Jenny. But I just… can't." Jenny looked at her before sighing in disappointment.
"If that's how you feel, May. I hope we meet again someday." Jenny nodded at Callner before striding towards the stage. A minute later, Callner stepped out, dressed in a pathetic excuse of a dressing robe.
"And now for your entertainment, Miss Jenny Griffin!" the curtains parted to reveal Jenny, who looked up when the spotlight fell on her, smiling as the tavern filled with cheers and catcalls, mainly from excited scavengers after a long days work.
"You had plenty of money. You let other women make a fool of you. Why don't you do right, like some other men do..."
Jenny stepped across the stage, all the while keeping a large smile on her face as she spun, allowing all the attendees to get a fuller look at her.
"Get out of here, Get me some money too. You're sittin' down wondering what it's all about. If you ain't got no money they will, put you out. Why don't you do right, like some other men do? Get out of here, Get me some money too...
She playfully placed her foot on the chest on one of the men close to the stage, and pushed, sending him tumbling back with a goofy grin on his face.
"Now if you had prepared 20 years ago,You wouldn't be diggin now from door to door. Why don't you do right, like some other men do?"
"Here's your usual, kid." May nodded as she took a hot brown bag from Callner and slid it into her bag. Then, she turned to look at Jenny, who was now striding through the tables, winking and teasing the groups of scavengers and other workers clustered around the table, who were staring at her with vivid intensity.
"Get out of here, get me some money too. Get out of here, get me some money too."
Then, without any warning, she strode over to May, and stared her right in the face, singing the last lyric of her song without missing a beat.
"Why don't you do right, like some other men dooooo?"
She broke off the song and twirled back towards the stage and took a bow, to much applause. She winked at May before vanishing behind the curtain. May sighed as she stood up.
"See you tomorrow, Callner." He nodded as she strode towards the door and exited. Time to go home.
—
"Out on the salt flats, the only place to shelter from the sun and the predators at night was inside something one had built oneself. May's broom was an insignificant speck against the fiery, setting mass as she slowed on approach to her residence.. Few came this way, so she didn't have to worry about any visitors. Unloading, she gathered her belongings and headed for the makeshift entrance that led into the belly of the cave that May called home. May had actually found it by accident. She had been exploring a new tunnel when a wall collapsed, and she had stumbled into the cave. After exploring it, she found an exit leading to the desert. After cleaning it of its artifacts, she had decided to make the cave home, and had carefully filed an exit that led out into a dune. She had stuck a tarp over the entrance, and over the years, she had decorated the cave. It may have seemed like a simple cave to anyone else, but to May, it was home."
After carefully unloading her gear and supplies onto the homemade cabinets and shelves, she remembered to make a scratch mark on one interior wall, a streak of white against the brown wall. She had long since stopped bothering to count the scratches, which now numbered in the thousands.
Bits and pieces of homemade décor ornamented isolated alcoves and corners: here a handmade doll fashioned from tattered faded robes, there a cluster of dried desert flowers; on the far end of the bed insert, a pillow that had cost her a day's work. It wasn't much, but where such examples of defiant individuality had been placed, they softened the drabness of their surroundings. She fell back into a homemade chair and sighed in exhaustion, before reaching into her bag and pulling out the wrapped brown meal she had brought back.
"Still warm." She sighed as she took off the wrapping to reveal the hot bread mixed in with meat. Taking a seat, she dug into both as if she had not eaten in weeks. It seemed that these days all too many meals were like that. When she had finished, she picked up the plate and licked it dry before setting it aside. Rising, she moved to a window that she had built in that looked in the direction of Tralina. Even now, in the growing darkness, she pondered. Jenny was probably long gone by now, off on a new adventure out there somewhere. And she was here.
Wiping her mouth, she turned to a shelf where an old, badly used textbook lay. She picked it up and glanced at the cover, which faintly read: Hogwarts: A History. She stared at the book for a long moment, before putting it back. She made her way outside into the cooling air. Nothing much to see tonight, she reflected. The sun going down. Tomorrow morning, the sun coming up. And so on to another day, not unlike its predecessor and the interminably repetitive ones that had gone before. She tried to think of something else—something that had changed, something that "seemed different—if only to keep her mind from atrophying. But there was nothing. Nothing new. Certainly nothing to daydream about. Out here, things never changed.
There was that occasional mention in the market of a rising new power in the galaxy. An organization that called itself "The Dark Order." Determined, relentless. Nobody seemed to know much else about it. Not something to worry about here, she knew. Whatever it was, whatever it represented, it wouldn't come to this backward, out-of-the-way place. She was alone. And she'd probably always be alone.
Something screeched that was not shifting sand. Rising quickly, she rushed out of the cave, her wand clenched in her fist. The screeching was sounding continuously now, no less frantic for its frequency.
Reaching the top of a nearby dune, she found herself gazing down at a sight as curious as it was unexpected. Trapped in a net of local material, a small brown owl was attempting to escape its prison, an effort rendered difficult due to its wings being trapped in the net. A short goblin looked pleased with his find as he rode atop a large beast. May groaned to herself.
"Carrnok." She cursed under her breath. She really hated that goblin.
When uncertain as to anything taking place here, May knew, it was always reasonable to assume that something untoward was happening. At least until she understood the particulars of the confrontation she was witnessing, it was only right to call it to a momentary halt. Especially since that owl seemed incapable of defending itself.
"Stop!" she yelled. Motion ceased as both Carnook and the owl stopped wrestling and turned to peer up at her.
Making an effort to simultaneously control both its heavy-headed mount and its captive, Carnnok yelled back through the mouthpiece of the goggle-eyed helmet that covered his wrinkled face. Its attitude was decidedly unconciliatory, even threatening. Meanwhile the head of the imprisoned owl swiveled rapidly back and forth, trying to watch both goblin and human simultaneously.
"Back off, bitch! This owl's mine!" he added a few other choice words in there as well. May immediately took offense, not only at the goblin's tone, but at its speech, which far exceeded the bounds of common courtesy that existed between fellow desert-dwellers and made difficult coexistence possible. The goblin knew better, and its intemperate words were enough to decide her on a course of action. Descending the far side of the dune, she pointed her wand at the net and yelled "Relashio!" the net flew off the owl and into Carnook's face, causing him to howl with rage. Furious with losing its prize, the goblin unleashed a stream of indigenous invective. None of it had the slightest effect on May, who whirled to point her wand right between the goblin's eyes.
"Leave, now!" she ordered. Long and drawn out, the Goblin's response to this would have been unprintable on any of a hundred civilized countires. Turning the metal-enclosed head of its mount, the unpleasant scavenger departed in the opposite direction. As soon as the native was a safe distance away, the owl hopped up and began screeching loudly and challengingly in its direction.
"Shhh," May hastened to quiet the owl. "Don't tempt it. They're already short-tempered enough. The owl instantly went silent. Together, the two of them tracked the beast until it and its rider had vanished from view.
"Are you okay?" the owl screeched at her and spread its wings. Or, it tried to. It winched as it tried to fully open its right wing, but let out a loud screech of pain.
"Calm down, I'm trying to help you!" May ordered as she tried to check on the owl. Then, she saw what the problem was. She cursed.
"Looks like that idiot hurt your wing. You're not flying anywhere anytime soon." The owl let out a wild screech.
"Look, I don't like this either. But, if you try to fly out there now, you're gonna end up someone's dinner." The owl quickly stopped screeching at that remark. It let out a nervous hoot.
"Look, I don't care. You're way outta your element…" she looked down at the owl, ultimately making a decision.
"Looks like you'll have to stay with me tonight. I'm not a animal doctor, but I think I can patch your wing up." The owl looked at her and let out a loud hoot. May frowned in confusion.
"Oh. Wait…" May carefully held her arm out. The owl looked from her arm to her.
"You got a better plan?" the owl hooted before hopping onto her arm and making his way up to her shoulder. Together, they headed for her abode.
"Once your wing's healed," she said firmly, "you go." A responsive hoot acknowledged her decision. "Fine, you're welcome." Another hoot, which made her laugh. "My name's May, by the way." Truth be told, she couldn't really understand the owl.
Still more screeching, and her smile disappeared. "Look, you're not going to talk all night, are you? Because that won't work. You know how humans rest. We need sleep. We're not nocturnal. We all cant fly hundreds of miles, you know." A second acknowledging screech. "Good. Keep that in mind and we'll get along 'til morning. Quietly."
A single hoot left hanging in the dry desert air as they disappeared behind the dune.
Enjoy that? there's more adventures coming up soon! Enjoy!