I Need A Camel For This Shit

This sandy land had to be one of the most dangerous areas Thorn had trodden by his own opinion. The sand made one have to watch their step, and tiny predators hid out of sight. He didn’t need to see the scorpions and snakes that hid to be aware of them. The sand moved when the wind stirred it but it also moved from the things underneath.

Perhaps the greatest danger here though was the heat with no shade. Then again there was also the trick of keeping track of where you had come from. A land that had so few features to it frequently changed as the sand moved about and the scents on that sand moved with it.

Get lost, get thirsty, get hot, and die. He’d already spotted a young deer that had paid for the folly of coming here. Thorn was starting to think there was little point in making a map of this area. Still, surely there was something to make of this place? With his greatsword Stormsong on his back, parchment and mapping brush, tucked in a pouch he moved along.

Finally! He spotted something in the distance besides a corpse or cacti. At first, the shape was odd and he couldn’t say for sure. Eventually, he caught the scent of the wolf and his form came into focus.
Thorn howled a polite greeting to the other wolf, more of a sillhoute but soon he’d recognize this as a wolf he’d met prior.

"Thorn Carpathius"