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When I see an untended zabilla, I pluck it from its stems, careful to avoid its sharp points. Cooked, zabilla can be delicious, especially with butter and herbs… or meats? It functions more as a side dish than a meal.
By itself, it has little taste but provides plenty of nutrients and water.
There isn’t much to eat in the uncultivated deserts… even less now, since there are no animals to be found. As exhausting as a struggle for my life might be, at least the meat from the creature I killed would be something to sustain myself with.
It might make my stomach stop gurgling.
Occasionally, I wonder if I was better off in the caverns, eating the disgusting remnants of chirops.
But I have to shake my head.
“I’m never eating chirops again,” I say aloud.
And the sound of my voice, against the dull winds of the desert, reverberates loudly in my ear, startling me awake.
I can’t go back there.
Eventually, I will find something. My mother wouldn’t have sent me on this quest otherwise.
I imagine her smile, and it fills me with hope. I know that she would want me to return home to her. If I can bring her a nice meal to accompany my return, I’m sure she would be grateful.
Laughing a little, I trod forward with a little more bounce, though the sands are still heavy to walk through, and they are extremely hot on the soles of my feet. My last pair of sandals broke years back, and I’ve had to live with the calluses that has caused.
If starvation doesn’t kill me, I could always die from infection. There are all sorts of creatures in this desert that would gladly pierce through my foot, sending poison coursing through my system.
With the wondrous sky ahead of me, filled with pinks and majestic oranges, I’m suddenly overwhelmed by a delicious smell.
“Is somebody cooking something?”
I know that nobody around will answer me, but mostly for my own benefit, I pose the question anyway. There’s a tangy, meaty smell that carries through the air like a beacon.
Letting the smell guide me, I veer off, uncertain of where I was going or why I left the comforts of the cavern.
Mother will be expecting my return, and we have everything we need back home.
Approaching closer, it smells a bit like roasted worg. It was my favorite food, back in the elven…
It was my favorite food that Mother used to make. When it was all we could find, I still remember when we sat together around the fire, and she burst out a string of irreverent jokes. It was the first time she treated me like an adult.
We had barely escaped confinement.
I almost lost her.
But oddly, the closer I get to the smell, the farther away it seems. I’m still not sure where my cavern is relative to me, not that I’d want to go back there.
I’d imagine, if I reached the tall hill on the horizon, I could look out over the sands. If there are any signs of settlements, I could see them from on high.
Nodding, I stride forward, with the full confidence that this will teach me what I need to know.
But as I reach the base of the hill, I spot something unexpected and feel excitement brew within me.
Tracks have formed in the ground where the sand is thin and uncovered. I’m uncertain of how the wind didn’t simply blow these tracks away. They must be recent.
“Humans?”
I lean down to inspect the tracks. I know it’s almost too much to hope for. But still, I need to believe I’m not alone out here. I need to believe that somewhere, I can find safety among my own kind.
The tracks are of shoes, with long strides. It doesn’t rule out the possibility of humans, but more likely…
