Hi folks!
Thanks for staying with me on this one, glad you like it enough to read this far! yay!
We're up to longer chapters now, who's proud?
Constructive critism and (pleasepleaseplease) praise is requested of you if you'd care to click the little 'Review this Story/Chapter' button down there... and please do!
I don't own Star Wars. I also don't own the Treaty of Versailles. Go figure.

My bloodrite was over exactly a week before my rites of adulthood.

The entire clan celebrated. The Storyteller recounted the tale of the Desert Demon in the true, ancient words. His deep voice gave an added power to his story.

We lay about the fireside, revelling in the knowlege that the Vengeful Ghost would never again come to the Dune Sea.

As the Suns began their acest once more, the fired died out. A'lzale took some burning embers to his tent. Moments later there came a bellow, accompanied by sizzling. When he emerged we congratulated him for the idea and his resourcefullness. It was inspired.

"See?" He announced to me smugly. "I can beat you at something."

"True. I got the sentient but yours outlives mine. We're even."

I tugged suddenly at the binding around my wrist- it was in danger of slipping away. Quickly, I excused myself.

Cheers followed me as I retired to my tent.

Four days after the human died, A'lzale's dewbak followed suit. Three days away from adulthood, our childhood was complete.

There was another celebration that night. It was broken up by an instrusion. Several humans approached our camp. I released Hieln, along with the other massiffs. The humans left quickly, cowardly in their retreat. We posted a scout, but weren't worried. For all their savagery, humans had little courage.

The next day I talked to K'qui'ca'ck, on sentry scout. We sat atop the highest dune, facing away from the camp.

"The humans were probably here to take back your captive." She grunted in amusement.

"I only wish I could have taken more than one."

"You did well. We don't have to fear the Ghost any longer. You have avenged our parents."

"I wish I could remember them."

"Memories are best left in the past, Olive." She instructed sternly. Too sternly. She quickly changed her tone. "Look ahead. Remember, you're an uli-ah for two more days only."

"I know. And I don't mind that I didn't know my mother. I've got my SandMother."

"Ah- not for long. Soon you'll be a mother yourself."

"Soon? Hardly!"

"A SandMother can dream, can't she?"

We fell into comfortable silence. K'qui'ca'ck was second only to Quphi to me. Since we had survived the Demon together, she had been my 'SandMother', a term we had created ourselves. A unique word for a unique situation. And, as K'qui'ca'ck had said to me, a special name for a special uli-ah. Olive. It certainly was 'special'. I never liked it.

"Can I change my name at the rite?"

"No, Olive."

"Please? I could be K'k'qui'ca'ck."

"I'm not your father, Olive."

"Fine then. K'... what was my father's name?"

"I don't know."

"What? Why?"

"He... I never met him."

I paused. "Well then, my mother's."

She paused. "I don't know it."

I jumped to my feet. "Do you know anything about me? Why am I Olive? It's not a proper name!"

"Olive is your name. Always has been, and, as long as I'm around, always will be."

This time the silence was awkward.

"I should go and see to Quphi."

I left.

"Ququ!" I yelled over the wind. It was picking up again. Another storm so soon?
When I was a very young uli-ah, the Shaman had taught me how to interprt the storms as omens. I never took him seriously, but now I was beginning to see where he was coming from. I got a bad feeling from the disturbed dunes. Quphi hadn't moved.

"Ququ!" I urged again. She slowly turned, ambling towards the camp.

"Ququ!" She broke into a run- as fast as I'd ever seen her. She turned again- towards the storm.

I could only hold on.

The sand whipped around us as we ran together. The wind howled, reaching my skin by somehow worming through my bindings. My mask, obscured by the hood, began to struggle. I was gasping for the air, so angered and violent around me. In vain I pulled on the reins, trying to turn Quphi. She braved on, racing the sandstorm that could so easily claim our lives. I wanted to call for help, but who was there?

No one. We had to survive. The two of us.

Thinking quickly, I began to urge my Bantha on. Spurred by my sudden change, she moved ever faster. We reached the eye of the storm. The wind calmed. The sand settled. For the moment, we could rest. I barely jumped off Quphi before the collapsed, exhausted. I knelt beside her, stroking coarse hair lovingly.

"Why?" I asked sadly. She grunted, raising her head towards me. I took comfort in her dark golden eyes. I wished she could talk Tusken.
But the eyes were enough.
She was scared.

She began grunting again, trying to stand.

"Sh-hh. Easy, Quphi. E-easy."

We found shelter under a lip of a crumbled cliff face. I led Quphi to the back, but she turned and sat across the entrance. She was protecting me with her bulk.

"Thankyou, Quphi. Sleep now. Sleep."

We slept.

The storm blew itself out before we woke.

"Alright. Let's get back to camp. I should apologise to K'qui'ca'ck."

I mounted swiftly.

"Ququ!"

We began to move off.

"Why was I so rude? It was a stupid argument, huh Quphi."

I got a snuffly response.

"It's okay, though. Today we'll go out and have fun- our last day as uli-ah! Well, my last day."

Again a snuffle, affectionate and understanding.

"And tomorrow, we'll have our rites of adulthood! Do you think A'lazale will be a good mate? I think so. And Fsii, he'll be perfect for you- as long as you stop running off into storms, that is!"

My inane chatter was cut off sharply. Quphi's huge head whipped around. Djat'sn was racing aimlessly over the dunes.

"K'qui'ca'ck? Djat'sn!"

My shielded eyes saw K'qui'ca'ck wasn't riding her Bantha. It was strange- perhaps she had wondered off, it wasn't too far from the camp, but why was she running? Had she been spooked?

"Ququ!"

We tried in vain to catch up. "Djat'sn! Djatsn!"

She didn't slow. She was nearing a cliff. Again I shouted her name, Quphi joining my voice with roars of warning.

It was no use. Djat'sn disappeared off the ridge.

We drew up before the edge. I peered over. Djat'sn was splayed far below, across a rocky plane. I felt sick. K'qui'ca'ck would be… the revelation hit me suddenly.

"Ququ! QUQU!" We rode, faster than ever before.
The camp came into view.
My fears were confirmed- that and worse.

The reason a Bantha would hurl herself off a cliff.
The only reason.
Poor, dear K'qui'ca'ck.

She was dead.

They were all dead.