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Description
GOSH, this took me WAY TOO FUCKING LONG to finish. Don't even now why, I guess writer's block hit me hard haha. :"D

~*~

The sandstorm arrived without warning, a tremendous gust of heat and hellfire that roared into the canyon like some great tawny beast -- like Zonje's wrath given physical form. It gouged at the earth with gritty sickle claws, heaving mounds of dirt and sagebrush into the air, uprooting scraggly desert trees and flinging them skyward; Devika watched it approach her with an unfamiliar tightness in her chest, a comfortable feeling of terror that settled into the fine lines of her face and caused her heart to tremble beneath the confines of her ribcage. She had believed that it would be hot and clear today, a scorcher by every definition, but she recognized an incoming storm when she saw one. This certainly qualified as an incoming storm.

Driven by instinct (or perhaps by fear), she dropped to her knees in the sand. When the squall collided with her, it did so with all the force and fury of a vengeful god, ripping a startled scream from her throat as it drowned the world around her in chaos. She could see nothing but red through the tears in her eyes, could hear nothing above the howling wind in her ears, could feel nothing more than the grit that battered her trembling body. Dust stole the moisture from her lungs, coating her nose and mouth and throat so thickly that it became a struggle to breathe. If she had been standing when that storm crashed down, it would have knocked her from his paws, sent her tumbling over the ledge towards the dogs below...

She shuddered at the realization, and pulled her legs in closer to her body.

Powerless. This is what it was to feel powerless. Her flesh stung and burned, fierce whiplash winds driving torrents of sand into her back, her sides, her neck, her face, each grain sharper and more cutting than the last. Though she had shut her eyes against the onslaught, she saw red - only red - spiraling away in all directions, infinite and torturous. Tears leaking freely now, Devika tucked her head between her forelegs. Her father had done worse to her, she thought savagely; a dinky little duster was nothing to flinch at. She'd have preferred to be in her den when it hit, of course, but Zonje was a fickle being and life in the desert so rarely went as planned.

"Brace yourself!" The voice was high and sharp, slicing through the storm like talons through fat and muscle. Devika thought that it must have belonged to the thin brindled bitch she had been trailing since dawn, a leather-clad huntress leading her companions - both male - through the gorge in search of prey. "Bits! Grab him!"

Devika lifted her head from the hollow she had created in her legs, a crust of sand falling away from the curve of her shoulders and neck. Her eyes immediately began to water.

There, standing directly below her ledge (save for the smallest, who had been blown to the ground and was rolling away), were the dogs. Two stood hunched against the storm, sleek pelts caked in dust; the other tumbled like so much debris through a haze of sand, stubby legs flailing. Devika caught a glimpse of thick black fur and wide white eyes as it flipped end-over-end into a slab of stone that poked up through the shifting sea of dunes.

"Bits!" That was the male, a barrel-chested brute with a crooked tail. "Are you alright?"

Devika struggled to catch the ankle-biter's thready response. The wind had pressed her ears flat to her skull, muffling even the roar of the storm. Tears spilled from her eyes in a thin stream as she fought to hear...

And just like that, silence descended upon the canyon. Debris pummeled Devika's head and back as rocks and dirt and sand fell like rain from the cloudless skies above, no longer whipped into a frenzy by the gale; several shrub-like trees dropped behind her, skeletal branches tickling her rump as they bounced off of her ridge and careened towards the dogs below -- who deftly avoided collision. The bitch loped towards her fallen packmate, wedge-headed mutt close behind. "Freak storm," she murmured, voice deafeningly loud in the stillness of the morning. "Bits, can you move?"

The ankle-biter - Bits - climbed to his feet by way of response. Devika watched him shake a layer of grit from his plush tri-colored pelt, then turned to assess her path, worry tugging at her features. Sand had piled against her body, sprinkled liberally with rocks and uprooted bits of sagebrush and lavender; more coated the walkway she had been using. It would be near impossible to walk the ledge without noise, now, and harder still to do it without causing rivers of sand to flow down the ridge towards the strangers she had been following. How should I go about this? Her nose wrinkled, expression sour. Caution warred with curiosity in her mind. Greet the strange dogs, or attempt to avoid them. Greet, or avoid. Greet, or...

"Hello!"

Devika leapt to her feet with a thinly-vieled snarl, shedding a waterfall of debris in her desperation to get fully upright; Ankle-Biter stared at her from down below, pink tongue lolling merrily. His compatriots - spotting her now that he had brought her to attention - turned to face her. The mutt growled thickly, bristling. The bitch frowned. "State your business." Her eyes pierced Devika like a badger's teeth and claws, every bit as fierce. "This is Ascended territory."

"I'm fairly certain this is rattlesnake territory," Devika snarked on impulse, lifting a brow. "But you can call it what you'd like. You lost your meal, by the way; it's somewhere over there." She gestured vaguely towards the pile of sand that may or may not have swallowed their latest catch, a rabbit more skin and bones than fat and fur. The white mutt barked out a snarl, voice low, crooked tail flagging. "State your business, infidel!"

"Yeah," chirped the ankle-biter. "State your business!"

A moment passed in silence, sand rippling gently against Devika's ankles. She let her eyes - both irises like fire and ice, left pupil narrowed to a reptilian slit - wander the leather-clad trio of hunters until she thought the brute was going to explode with indignation. "Well, I was going to follow you about until I thought of something better to occupy my time, but I suppose I could lend a helping paw instead. I know where you can find water and a few tasty morsels to take back home with you."

"Insolent bitch!" The brute lunged, teeth closing on empty air with a snap. He must have been trying for intimidation, though there was no way he'd reach her from the bottom of the canyon -- and if he did manage, well, there were perks to having a vicious family. Bloodshed was familiar. Pain was comfortable. Devika flashed the mutt a toothy grin and enjoyed his responding fury. "I will spill your blood -- "

"Quiet, Abram. You," The female fixed her gaze on Devika. "Show us where to hunt. If you impress me, we will accept you into our ranks."

She didn't much want to join their ranks, though she supposed it was about time she found a pack. Living alone in the desert was difficult. Food was scarce, water scarcer. Shade liked to hide. It had been months since her last conversation, and she was rather lonely...

"Deal. Follow me."

Description
GOSH, this took me WAY TOO FUCKING LONG to finish. Don't even now why, I guess writer's block hit me hard haha. :"D

~*~

The sandstorm arrived without warning, a tremendous gust of heat and hellfire that roared into the canyon like some great tawny beast -- like Zonje's wrath given physical form. It gouged at the earth with gritty sickle claws, heaving mounds of dirt and sagebrush into the air, uprooting scraggly desert trees and flinging them skyward; Devika watched it approach her with an unfamiliar tightness in her chest, a comfortable feeling of terror that settled into the fine lines of her face and caused her heart to tremble beneath the confines of her ribcage. She had believed that it would be hot and clear today, a scorcher by every definition, but she recognized an incoming storm when she saw one. This certainly qualified as an incoming storm.

Driven by instinct (or perhaps by fear), she dropped to her knees in the sand. When the squall collided with her, it did so with all the force and fury of a vengeful god, ripping a startled scream from her throat as it drowned the world around her in chaos. She could see nothing but red through the tears in her eyes, could hear nothing above the howling wind in her ears, could feel nothing more than the grit that battered her trembling body. Dust stole the moisture from her lungs, coating her nose and mouth and throat so thickly that it became a struggle to breathe. If she had been standing when that storm crashed down, it would have knocked her from his paws, sent her tumbling over the ledge towards the dogs below...

She shuddered at the realization, and pulled her legs in closer to her body.

Powerless. This is what it was to feel powerless. Her flesh stung and burned, fierce whiplash winds driving torrents of sand into her back, her sides, her neck, her face, each grain sharper and more cutting than the last. Though she had shut her eyes against the onslaught, she saw red - only red - spiraling away in all directions, infinite and torturous. Tears leaking freely now, Devika tucked her head between her forelegs. Her father had done worse to her, she thought savagely; a dinky little duster was nothing to flinch at. She'd have preferred to be in her den when it hit, of course, but Zonje was a fickle being and life in the desert so rarely went as planned.

"Brace yourself!" The voice was high and sharp, slicing through the storm like talons through fat and muscle. Devika thought that it must have belonged to the thin brindled bitch she had been trailing since dawn, a leather-clad huntress leading her companions - both male - through the gorge in search of prey. "Bits! Grab him!"

Devika lifted her head from the hollow she had created in her legs, a crust of sand falling away from the curve of her shoulders and neck. Her eyes immediately began to water.

There, standing directly below her ledge (save for the smallest, who had been blown to the ground and was rolling away), were the dogs. Two stood hunched against the storm, sleek pelts caked in dust; the other tumbled like so much debris through a haze of sand, stubby legs flailing. Devika caught a glimpse of thick black fur and wide white eyes as it flipped end-over-end into a slab of stone that poked up through the shifting sea of dunes.

"Bits!" That was the male, a barrel-chested brute with a crooked tail. "Are you alright?"

Devika struggled to catch the ankle-biter's thready response. The wind had pressed her ears flat to her skull, muffling even the roar of the storm. Tears spilled from her eyes in a thin stream as she fought to hear...

And just like that, silence descended upon the canyon. Debris pummeled Devika's head and back as rocks and dirt and sand fell like rain from the cloudless skies above, no longer whipped into a frenzy by the gale; several shrub-like trees dropped behind her, skeletal branches tickling her rump as they bounced off of her ridge and careened towards the dogs below -- who deftly avoided collision. The bitch loped towards her fallen packmate, wedge-headed mutt close behind. "Freak storm," she murmured, voice deafeningly loud in the stillness of the morning. "Bits, can you move?"

The ankle-biter - Bits - climbed to his feet by way of response. Devika watched him shake a layer of grit from his plush tri-colored pelt, then turned to assess her path, worry tugging at her features. Sand had piled against her body, sprinkled liberally with rocks and uprooted bits of sagebrush and lavender; more coated the walkway she had been using. It would be near impossible to walk the ledge without noise, now, and harder still to do it without causing rivers of sand to flow down the ridge towards the strangers she had been following. How should I go about this? Her nose wrinkled, expression sour. Caution warred with curiosity in her mind. Greet the strange dogs, or attempt to avoid them. Greet, or avoid. Greet, or...

"Hello!"

Devika leapt to her feet with a thinly-vieled snarl, shedding a waterfall of debris in her desperation to get fully upright; Ankle-Biter stared at her from down below, pink tongue lolling merrily. His compatriots - spotting her now that he had brought her to attention - turned to face her. The mutt growled thickly, bristling. The bitch frowned. "State your business." Her eyes pierced Devika like a badger's teeth and claws, every bit as fierce. "This is Ascended territory."

"I'm fairly certain this is rattlesnake territory," Devika snarked on impulse, lifting a brow. "But you can call it what you'd like. You lost your meal, by the way; it's somewhere over there." She gestured vaguely towards the pile of sand that may or may not have swallowed their latest catch, a rabbit more skin and bones than fat and fur. The white mutt barked out a snarl, voice low, crooked tail flagging. "State your business, infidel!"

"Yeah," chirped the ankle-biter. "State your business!"

A moment passed in silence, sand rippling gently against Devika's ankles. She let her eyes - both irises like fire and ice, left pupil narrowed to a reptilian slit - wander the leather-clad trio of hunters until she thought the brute was going to explode with indignation. "Well, I was going to follow you about until I thought of something better to occupy my time, but I suppose I could lend a helping paw instead. I know where you can find water and a few tasty morsels to take back home with you."

"Insolent bitch!" The brute lunged, teeth closing on empty air with a snap. He must have been trying for intimidation, though there was no way he'd reach her from the bottom of the canyon -- and if he did manage, well, there were perks to having a vicious family. Bloodshed was familiar. Pain was comfortable. Devika flashed the mutt a toothy grin and enjoyed his responding fury. "I will spill your blood -- "

"Quiet, Abram. You," The female fixed her gaze on Devika. "Show us where to hunt. If you impress me, we will accept you into our ranks."

She didn't much want to join their ranks, though she supposed it was about time she found a pack. Living alone in the desert was difficult. Food was scarce, water scarcer. Shade liked to hide. It had been months since her last conversation, and she was rather lonely...

"Deal. Follow me."