I scrambled up the dune, the sand shifting beneath my feet. My calves and thighs ached from balancing each sliding step. Sweat trickled between my breasts and down my back, combining with the grit that clung to my skin and clothes to form an itchy paste. I longed for water -- not the tepid water in our pouches, but water that bubbled from the earth in cool, sweet pools.

My Master had halted at the top. He waited out of no kindness for me; I had long ago learned the pace he kept was his own. Still, I silently thanked him for the brief pause. He had been impatient today. We had broken camp early, before the worst of the desert heat had passed, and even under the punishing sun he had kept a quick stride. As the hours had stretched on, I could only envy such energy.

"The Jewel of the Sands," he said as I came to his side. He pointed to the east.

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I'll be happy to trade the favor of critique with any takers.

punahougirl84@yahoo.com

GZ, I like the opening, I would love to read the remainder. I am in no way qualified to pass judgement of your writing style or grammar etc, etc. But if I like it I will certainly let you know, and if I feel I can add an odd comment I will.

Regards,