Sweeping Winds

Dens were not a permanent thing for the small slave boy, and neither were his homes since he was being moved around often by Masters. Temporary ones were made from what he could find laying around for those harsher nights, bending the grasses in the pains or using the leaves from the palms of the oasis. Today however, the male was looking for nice leaves to bring back to the plains, offering them as bedding for his Masters and their children. He had to be careful though, leaves did not fall often and when they did they weren't in the best condition. Perhaps, if they were decent enough, Squirrel could chew off the nastier bits and that would still be acceptable. Arriving in the area it was about midday, a few thin and short clouds rolling across the sky and a warm breeze sweeping along the dunes.