Wide angle digital art by FaSeiren on Furaffinity. Duenner on the open Pampas prairie.

Drifters

On one of his longest field biology trips, Duenner had hiked southwards from Kimberly into the heart of the Pampas where the terrain became as level as a calm sea. The first day of Long Month, dryness growing in strength, dominating the land. The prior maelstrom of spring weather transitioning into a huge, high pressure cell centered over the unseen Vremenski mountains. Bringing arid winds from the southwest. The feather grass had faded to greenish brown. The upper grass heads with their Motif like design, dried to dust.

Under a hot morning sun, Dunner strolled a few kilometers north from his encampment; searching for the rare Skeet. The sight hound's pelt, dusty and scruffy, eyes and muzzle aimed downwards. A feral creature on the hunt for a fist sized, compact Dactyl that nested in abandoned Mii'servi burrows.

A midday pause to rest in the grass, sipping bottled water sourced from waterholes. Dried stores at the camp set aside for dire times; sustenance came from snared Mii''servi. Barely cooked, devoured down to small bones gnawed clean.

Overhead, dry, high level winds from the southwest capping mid level westward wind currents with moisture lying atop a southward ground breeze stirring the grass. By late afternoon, near the horizon, a patch of mid level moist air had managed to broach through the cooler dry air, spawning a developing chimney of cloud.

Duenner's attention became diverted towards the grass tops, nostrils twitching, eyes tracking two winged blurs ahead.

Skeets. Several arcing overhead. A nearby nesting site! This was the time of year Skeets laid their eggs. Duenner flicked a tongue over dried chops. A Skeet egg would make a nice dessert for his evening dinner. The slim bodied sight hound crept low, tail twitching.

A distinct 'Skeep' chirp from a Dactyl, Doppler shifted and sounding like it was moving behind him. Followed by another. They had spotted the upright canid, flew about in evasive, stoop diving trajectories, making clever chirps that often confused would-be predators trying to locate a burrow nest with Skeet eggs.

So intent on his hunt, the Ibizan hound finally took notice of the dimming sky. The cloud developing into a rotating cell. Winds gyrating within a tilted tower of budded growth that halted, spreading out like smoke against an invisible ceiling, darkening the landscape.

Duenner stood up, abandoning the stalk, enchanted by the growing behemoth with a darker, wind sculpted base drifting towards the North. Distant rain shafting off to the side, periodic lighting forking across the sky. Nearby breeze shifting towards the growing storm. The Skeets ceased chirping and dive bombing Duenner as he strode southwards, snout pointing sideways.

The cell drifting over the Pampas like a living entity. Wind driven labyrinth of currents, energy released and lighting arcing like nerves in thought. Drifting in the opposite direction, a tiny biological being equally arranged in complexity. The differences in scale being kilometers vs micrometers of structure.

Two drifters passing each other in the setting sun. Two entities keeping Entropy at bay for just a while.