May the wind spirits favor me today, thought Kutsal as he donned his light cloak and grabbed his gear. Today he was going snake hunting alone. The sun was high and hot above the sandy rolling dunes already, and he knew most snakes would be in hiding from the dangerous heat by now. He had spent the morning tending to his youngest sister, Ina. She was still so small that she hadn't grown her flight feathers yet, but old enough to be alone in the den for most of the day. She had been the only thing keeping him sane since their parents died two years ago. With no older siblings, and no other family, Kutsal had been in charge of raising her. Their parents were no fools, they had taught both their kits to care for themselves at a very young age. Kutsal caught his first snake before he could fly, as most Sa'Dimali do. He had been given the lessons of survival from his parents, and the routes to the desert wells so they would never be without water.

Life had been hard lately. Ina and Kutsal had gone to sleep hungry more nights than they could count, the closest well was running low due to the unusually short monsoon season they had before. If he could catch at least two snakes today, they wouldn't go hungry again. He kissed his sister goodbye on her forehead, and she gave him that gleeful smile only the young can give, even through her hunger pangs. No words were exchanged, and Kutsal emerged into the hot bright sun. He flipped his hood up to shield his eyes from the light, opened his wings and let the sky take him in, circling the den a few times before going out.

Most other Alecani had moved on from this area because of the low well, so it was his hope that hunting might be better with fewer individuals around. He and his sister could not travel to the next well area alone. She was too big for him to carry, and couldn't fly on her own yet. Making the trek on foot would surely kill one or both of them. He had to stick it out until the next monsoon season. His memory guided him to an area where he spotted a snake trail in the shifting sand the day before. He had been unable to find his quarry then, but he had hopes for today. It took a couple of hours for him to reach the location, during which the sky remained calm. The wind spirits seemed to be in hiding, which didn't bode well. After the winds rest they often awaken with renewed energy. At least the still air made it easier to track the snake he was looking for.

He spotted the trail, the faintest difference in the sand that would hardly be noticeable to someone not accustomed to snake hunting. Gently swooping low, he glided slowly at head height above the sand. Walking along the trail would alert the snake of his approach, and he might scare it off if he cast a shadow over it accidentally while flying high. He clutched his small harpoon close as he followed the trail. The markings in the sand became more and more distinct, he knew he was closing in. Looking ahead, he saw it! It was extremely large, even from this distance. His pathetic harpoon wouldn't kill it in one blow. He cursed silently, wishing he had one of his parents' real harpoons. The makeshift one he had crafted was only good enough to kill smaller snakes, and he had already broken two of them doing so. The thought of turning back crossed his mind, finding some tubers to dig up to fill their bellies instead. But there was no guarantee he would find any, and his sister was waiting for him, hungry and alone in their den.

It was that thought which pushed him forward, he pumped his wings to gain speed. He had to make this kill.

The snake wasn't prepared for the first blow, Kutsal had dropped on to it's neck with his feet, grasping just behind it's head with his talons to control it and prevent it from biting. He tried to use his harpoon to pierce it's scales, but it broke on the first blow, snapping entirely in two pieces. He tossed it aside, cursing aloud this time. It writhed powerfully, bucking it's attacker off to the side. Kutsal scrambled to

gain his footing expecting a retaliatory strike. It took him a moment to realize the snake was fleeing, and he launched off the sand in pursuit. It was fast, but not as fast as a hungry Alecani on the hunt. He pounced again, this time using all four limbs to grasp the neck. Again the huge serpent writhed in protest, but he kept his grip. They wrestled in the sand, his cloak and tools fell away in the struggle, mind racing to figure out how to actually make the kill with all four limbs occupied. With no other options available, he sank his teeth into it, sharp canine teeth getting past the scales where the harpoon failed.

This only served to anger his prey... It's strength seemed to double, his claws slipped from it's neck, and in the blink of an eye it's teeth were in his hide. His left wing exploded in pain, the feathers being mashed under the pressure of the snake's jaws. It was quick, but left his wing bloody and torn. The shock of it sent his vision whirling for a moment, and when it cleared he saw the snake leaving, a slight blood trail behind it from when he bit through it's scales. His head swam, he briefly went through the checklist of physical traits for venomous snakes in his mind, just to be sure. He knew it wasn't when he first spotted it, but he was thorough and wanted to be sure. He got up and tried running after it on all fours, but on foot he was slower than his prey.

Tears filled his eyes as he watched it disappear over a dune, he snarled and gritted his teeth. He had failed his sister, they would both go hungry tonight again... He may not even make it home on foot in this heat, unable to support his weight in flight on his injured wing. He could use it somewhat, it wasn't broken. But he could not make the journey back to the den on it. He let his tears fall into the sand, hands balled into fists. He forced himself to cease crying after a few drops. In this desert, all moisture was precious. He was already bleeding, he couldn't afford to become more dehydrated from weeping. Gathering himself up and cradling his injured wing, he picked up his cloak and tools. The harpoon was a loss, he'd have to carve another one, but he had his water-skin and snake bag still, along with his small blade. He wrapped his cloak around his injured wing to stop the bleeding and to immobilize it against his back. With a heavy heart, he started the long walk back to the den.

It wasn't long before he had to take a break in the slight shadow of a dune. He took a very small sip from his water-skin and checked his wing. The tear wounds from the snake's teeth had clotted, but it still ached fiercely. He stared up into the sky and tried to think of how to explain this to his sister, and where to get the next meal. Maybe if he was lucky he could catch a few lizards on the way home. A light gust picked started to pick up, and blew some hot sand into his eyes.

Maybe the wind spirits are laughing at me... taking on a task too big for a stupid little Sa'Dimali.

But there was something different about this breeze. It was not a single gust that died down, but a progressively more powerful persistent wind. Kutsal turned around and climbed the few steps to the top of the dune he was on and peeked over. A sand storm, coming fast.... His heart skipped a beat, there was no shelter anywhere to be found. He was far from a well, a den, or any rock outcroppings.

They are not laughing at me, they are spitting on me!

The wind increased, he rushed to unwrap his injured wing so he could use his cloak to shield his eyes and mouth from the coming sand. The cloak was covered in crusted blood, it was painful to peel it off his wing, feathers sticking to the wounds. He glanced over his shoulder again to see the storm even closer. This one was fast. He might not survive.... wrapping his head and body with the cloak, he hunkered down and waited for it to hit. A split second later the wind smacked into his back, knocking him down. He tried to get as low as possible so the storm wouldn't knock him around, but the powerful winds were too much for him. He was being rolled along, the tightly wrapped cloak coming undone. The storm grabbed at the flapping loose edge of the cloak, ripping a huge portion of it from him, unwrapping his wings. An edge of his wing was caught in the whirlwind, flinging the injured limb open involuntarily. He cried out in pain, the noise swallowed by the sand and wind. Before he knew it, the storm has picked him off the ground entirely. He was at it's mercy.

Thoughts of his sister waiting for him to come home skittered across his consciousness. He imagined her face when she finally gave up hope of seeing him again. The desert would claim another Alecani, and leave one less mouth to feed.

......

Kutsal was first aware of the pain in his wing, and then the other pains all over his body. He opened his eyes to slits, the bright light pouring into his vision. Blinking blearily, he tried to focus on his surroundings. He did indeed ache all over, but he was on a soft comfortable surface, inside a large tent. His wing had blood soaked bandages on it, and there was a bowl of clear water next to him. He took a long drink of the water, licking his lips. Before he could get up to explore, another Alecani walked in accompanied by two sand cats.

"I'm glad you're awake. Don't worry, your wing is not severely injured, you should heal quite quickly." Said the female Alecani in a voice husky with age. She looked to be middle aged, and was donning the red cloak of the Well Guard. Kutsal surmised the storm had blown him near enough to a well for a guard to find him.

"Which well am I at? I need to get home, my sister is-"

"Calm down, we know about your sister." The two sand cats began unwrapping his injured wing and cleaning the wound. "I am Eda, the primary guard of this well. A sandstorm stronger than any I've seen in years brought you here. It's a wonder you have so few injuries to show, let alone survived it at all, really. One of my secondary guards found you not a half mile away from where we are now, barely conscious. All the way back you mumbled about Ina, your sister, and how she was going to be disappointed you had died," her voice was low and calm, no expression could be read on her face.

As Eda looked down her muzzle at Kutsal, his ears flushed with embarrassment, and he turned his eyes down. "I'm sorry, I... I am weak. I can't even care for my own den-mates."

"No... No, you are not weak. The Wind Spirits brought you to us for a reason. You are strong, you have survived much," a small amount of kindness slipped into her tone, but her face did not change. "We've sent scouts to find your den and your sister, she will not survive much more than a few days without you. She will be brought back here and you both will be cared for."

"Wh...why, Well Master?" He asked meekly.

"As I said, the Wind Spirits brought you to us for a reason. We will need strong Alecani like you, if you are willing. If your sister is as tough as you are, we will need her too. Myself, Pacha and Kacha here are the only ones in attendance to the well while my two scouts bring your sister. Life as a Well Guard can be hard, but it is richly rewarding." Eda seemed to hesitate, searching for a difficult word in her mind. "Please... Stay."

Kutsal's heart ached. He did not think he was as strong as Eda believed he was. He did not want to take advantage of the Well Master. But without her kindness he would have died a mere half mile from a well, and his sister of starvation in his absence. The two sand cats finished changing his bandaged wing, he bowed his head in thanks and looked up into the calm eyes of the Well Master. "Yes.... I will stay. I'll do whatever you ask of me."

"Good," Eda's face never wavered, but she swished her tail to one side with the word. "Your sister and my scouts will be back here in a few days, I don't want you loafing around. You might not be able to fly but you can walk. First thing I want you to do is aid Pacha and Kacha in washing your bandages and other items." She turned swiftly to the entrance of the tent and motioned with one hand to the two sand cats, who were waiting. "Kutsal?"

"Yes Well Master?"

"Wind's blessing to you." she said, still facing away.

"Wind's blessing," he breathed, but she was already halfway out the tent.

Kutsal looked down at the bowl of water, thinking about the events of the last two days. The Spirits had favored him after all.

"Well?!" A shrill voice snapped him out of his reverie. "Are you going to sit there staring into a bowl all day?" snapped Pacha. It was the first time one of the cats had spoken, it took him by surprise.

"n-no, I'm sorry, I'm coming," he stuttered back.

"Tcha, he's sorry he says! I don't know why Eda has spent what little of her generosity she has on this whelp," spat Kacha. "Come on then!"

Kutsal scrabbled off the pillow to follow the two short cats, who had turned to leave the tent without him, tails lashing in annoyance. As the twin cats yelled at him to hurry up, he sighed and thought, "a favor from the Wind Spirits certainly comes with it's pitfalls."