"We can't go deeper, can we?"
"Let me check."
The rusty NaNometer gave off a whirr to let the boys know it was working. Sweat streaks, long and thick, formed on the boys' faces; the younger ones' eyes fixated on the machine. Bloodshot eyes revealed the exhaustion of the two boys, they'd been trying their luck for over 10 hours.
The younger boy held the device with angst. An outdated NaNometer gave off a beep that the boys were all too familiar with: they were nearing the mantle. The older boy looked distraught, he began feeling the burlap sack that hung around his chest. His fingers felt the meager outcome of that day's work; a couple of little salt crystals, not worth more than ten caps altogether. The older boy, the big brother, was at odds with what he wanted to do and with what he knew was right.
"Let's go," said the older brother, with a pained tone clearly seeping through his voice. He led the way out, but the boy, disillusioned and hungry, would not go. Bowing his head down in defeat, he began crying; the small boy's tears hit the monitor of the still-whirring machine. Not being able to provide for the young one made the old brother feel obsolete, for Sanni had not eaten a proper meal in a fortnight, and it showed: weak tears fled from the child's puffy eyes down his bony cheeks.
Everyone, including the most poor, had to find a way to survive. "Sanni, please, let's go," persisted the older brother, now in a hurry. He took Sanni by his fragile hand as they felt their way out of the salt caves of Turbeszan.
The sun had already began its' descend as the boys reached the entrance of the a little crevice. Along the expanse of the caves were hundreds of people; men and women, young and old alike, all with dust-beaten hands and feet.
Sanni held on tightly to his older brother's arm, looking with big eyes at the sight that unfolded right in front of him. They began walking down the rigid curves of the crater wall with bare feet, Sanni groaned and mumbled in discomfort as the small rocks nipped at his small feet, but the older brother was all too used to the hike. They persevered.
At last, they reached the ground where all the others stood and congregated. A troop of weathered donkeys were stationed at the entrances of the caves. The extensive distance to the Great City of Turbeszan was a trek that could be surpassed only by the fittest, just a handful of individuals could afford the fare of this luxury.
Hoslo, the big brother, reached deep into his pocket and wished for 30 caps to spare a ride for two, but alas, you don't always get what you wish for.
"Hoslo, my feet hurt."
"We have to keep going, come on."
Just like that, our two boys begin their journey back to Turbeszan.
