Tiberius
It had taken more than a little cajoling, but finally Tiberius had let his friend convince him to head up the Vulcans. And he was regretting every step of it. Having long left even the dry grasses behind, it was now just scorching sand and ash underpaw. He couldn't remember ever feeling so dried out, his lips cracked and his eyes blinked furiously. It was like he was standing in front of an oven. He had almost fallen into an old stone slab oven his mother had been frying fish in once, it had been well that his father grabbed his tail. Tiberius almost would rather take that one time scorch than this constant broil he was enduring.
"Pah...yeah...the sooner we gets up this stupid mount'n the soonrs we cans get down," Tiberius panted back, his speech surprisingly slurred for having such a dry mouth. The heat was draining his energy, not that he had had much when he left the prison. He wanted more than anything to relax at a cool stream, though collapsing on the ground was becoming more tempting every moment.
***
Somehow, they made it to the night, and with it, more level ground. They were on some sort of plateau, though it was probably just another false peak. A wolf-made outbuilding broke up the murky horizon in the distance, seemingly the first artificial thing they had seen yet.
Croaking out a voice that was barely above a whisper, the young Arlyne turned to his friend. "Is your target in there, I hope?"