Déchirer

"speech"

Cendrillion wished so desperately to find her way out of this endless sand and sun and hot wind and get back up north, her thick pelt was caked in dust and her mouth was dry. Her last meal had been some days ago and it hadn't exactly been enough to fill out her already minuscule frame. Her paw pads were burning and she was just so done with being here. And worst of all she had been led here by a mirage and all she'd found at the end of the shimmering road was a dried lake bed. Cen sighed, plodding along the edge of the lake bed, hoping for a shred of green or blue on the horizon.