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THE DESERT THAT MADE UP THE ENTIRETY OF NO MAN'S LAND WAS THE APOTHEOSIS OF ALL DESERTS. Blinding (thanks to the twin suns that held this dusty marble in their dance) and without much to look at, the dunes rolled for what felt like parsecs in any direction. On occasion you could find the bones of some rocky structure puncturing the surface, canyons and mountains that might've once seen water at some point in the distant past, but no longer. There wasn't a lick of moisture to be had - not even in the air. Not even the little found within the few cities scattered throughout the planet could last long after sunrise.
Despite this, the planet was not hostile. People are hostile. No Man's Land was worse. It was indifferent.
You reminded yourself to close your mouth, licking at the scabs that flaked off your lips, threatening to tear themselves raw again if you moved your mouth wrong. Even though the handkerchief did its best to shield your face from the dry air, not even the inside of your nostrils were safe. But you'd much rather deal with the nosebleeds.
Behind you, the hide waterbag slung across the back of your avian mount sloshed temptably with every labored step. Unable to ignore it, you stole a glance - then quickly looked ahead, as if the mere act of perceiving it would cause the water within to evaporate.
It was closer to being empty than you'd like, and it would've been enough to last you the trek to Jeneora Rock by yourself, but Momo needed it more than you. As if to agree, he snorted, shaking his beak from side to side. You allowed yourself a laugh, scratching at the peach-colored feathers around his neck.
You didn't want to push the poor thing too hard. Three days had passed since you parted from the last settlement, and you had to make sure to carry enough to last the trip without traveling too heavy. If your wayfinding wasn't as rusty as you feared, it'd take a day and a half to cross the next town's borders. The thought of seeing something other than the monotonous purgatorial wastes made you giddy with excitement, but mostly it just gave you a headache.
Digging the wrapper of a protein bar from your right pocket, a vaguely nutty cracker that got stuck in your molars for later, you peeled back the foil. Only a corner remained, and you practically inhaled it, crumbs and all. As you licked what you could off the wrapper, Momo chittered.
"You already ate your share, bud." you chided, stuffing the empty foil back into your coat pocket. "Just gotta wait a few hours for dinner. 'Kay?"
You weren't sure if Momo could fully understand you, but sometimes he sure acted like it. You liked to think so. It'd make the journey a lot less lonely if he did. There weren't many friends to be had in the open desert, save for raiders and worms. You found the raiders better company.
Coming down off a paltry dune, letting Momo slide himself as easily as possible, the desert flattened out into hardpan dust. A good sign. As your mount preened his hind feathers of any sand, you watched the horizon with affected patience. You didn't expect to see any trace of him there. No thin line of smoke from a campfire, no gunshots, nothing. You wondered how close you were. You wondered if maybe you had gotten yourself turned around some hundred or so iles ago. You wouldn't know until you got to Jeneora.
