Snippet #2809205

Otis slid behind another dune, raising no dust in the heavy sand and making no sound as he silenced his footsteps. Wiping the sweat off his brow, Otis felt his gunshot oozing and winced. He'd gotten lucky, as usual.

Sighing, Otis pulled out the small water canteen he had and swallowed the rest of his water. It wasn't much but it would get him through. Overhead, he could still see Spirit, the small white bird looking like a tiny drift of cloud in a too-blue sky. Either the bird was following him or he was following the bird; at this point, Otis wasn't sure it mattered.

Having caught his breath, Otis hauled himself to his feet again. He needed to get to the dwards' meeting place, where Eimln had said she would meet him. He still had time. Truth be told, Otis wasn't sure what to think of the Eimln's proposition, or her cryptic words that Otis would be able to help them. Otis wasn't feeling exceptionally... helpful at the moment, but it was clear now that he had no place among the Lords of Rock.

Sighing, Otis moved onward, ignoring the heat of the sun and sand and the pain of his wound. There was no turning back now.