It’s hot. That’s what is running through her head as she lays on top of the statue with arms extended out beside her and her head resting on rough rock. Her armor cooked, her skin burned, there are circles around her eyes from the sunglasses, and the sand eels hissed while they struggled to climb up after her.
She hates this place.
Go to the desert they said, go get more information they said. It’s not Maguuma you won’t have an anxiety attack they said. You’ll be fine the eels won’t be out they said.
Liars, the lot of them.
They woke up with no hesitation when she first showed up near the statue while she looked for treasure. They bounded after her and the raptor: The two split up with both going up ruins in hopes to get away from this threat. They make it with only a few scratches, but soon it’s obvious they were stuck.
All they could do was wait, and wait they did. For half a day.
It takes a moment of peeling herself off the rock to sit up with a groan, and hunch over. Her body hurts, it hurts to bend. She hates this, she hates this so much. And what’s worse is the raptor was stuck a distance away on a ruined pillar, along with her main weapon. With the glider.
But the flask was with her, almost empty.
And a single waterskin. Empty.
Yeah, her husband is going to kill her and her lack of planning.
“You need to be more prepared, this desert is not gentle.’..Yeah, I didn’t know a whole nest of eels would wake up and trap me from my raptor stuck on a pillar,” she mimics his tone and stature with a hint of her own humor sneaked in, exaggerating his accent and the arm movements. The alcohol wasn’t helping, it was making her giggle and continue as she rambled on more as if holding a true talk with him.
You need water. “Mead is mixed water.” Mead doesn’t count. “It does, hush.” You need lighter clothing. “I
look good, you can’t deny it.” Please protect yourself here. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” I will worry until you’re back.
“Look_” She gets to her feet with a stumble but stands tall once up and points out into air with a pout. She begins a rant, but upon blinking she must stop, confusion crossing her face.
Was that a figure. Standing against the sunlight, looking at her. Standing tall and looking back as if scolding her for the choices. No, not possible, she’s been alone. Wait, why do they look familiar_
She stumbles and catches herself before going face first into stone. Nope, that was a hallucination. Heat exhaustion and a slight buzz. Brilliant.
Okay maybe ebony armor isn’t good for desert travel.
Gal takes the last swig of the mead inside the flask and she tosses it over the shoulder, then places her hands on her hips as she looks over the edge of the statue’s head. The sand eels had quieted down, sand trails show them moving to the next target running across hot sand and far from her. She can hear the raptor trilling and hopping about, shifting the pillar beneath him. She must sigh: She couldn’t do another hour of this before she slips off and becomes food. The sun was too high, there was nothing to drink now, the raptor was lonely, and beasts will be emerging at dusk and take over this area.
With a sigh and some grumbles, she tightens her armor and walks to the back. It takes some adjusting, but soon she’s climbing down to the level ground and running.
I told you so will be banned, mark her words.
She’ll also apologize for a fake argument.