This is a compilation of prompts for the Every Day in May and TrialsofLove contest. Some of the material in this book is apart of a larger story I'm currently working on.
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Sand.
Sand was everywhere as thick clouds of it provided no visibility to the outside world. Wind blasted into the small space, stinging Keelin's eyes. Cautiously, he pivoted back around to face the gale storm, squinting his eyes to get a view of anything that lay outside.
Nothing.
He stood there weighing his options, a hand reaching up to cover his mouth and nose with the fabric of his still intact jacket. Thunder rolled across the terrain, combining with the hiss of wind, making him leery. He had no idea where they had landed. No idea if anyone had seen the crash. For all he knew, they were completely alone on this forsaken rock and judging by the building storm, there was no way he could communicate with anyone on the outside. In short, they were stuck.
With an exasperated sigh, he knew what he needed to do next, close the opening. The whipping of wind and sand only solidified that thought as he navigated back towards Azmina, his eyes ghosting over her comatose form for a brief moment before opening the emergency hatch, thanking La'heara it was still intact.
Inside the cavity were about a dozen ration packets and a metal container of water, which appeared to be no more than a liter. Moving those aside, next he found two lights, a blanket, and finally a tarp.
Removing his jacket, Keelin wrapped it securely around his face, still leaving his eyes exposed. Either way, it would have to do. Once covered, he shifted over to the right side of the exit, taking a deep breath before plunging into the unrelenting tempest.
So many sensations hit him at once as the wind exploded in his ears, almost popping his eardrums as the force of the storm cemented the cloak to his face, threatening to suffocate him. His hands held onto the metal exterior, tarp in hand as he attempted to tie the covering to the exposed framework. He had to do this from the outside, otherwise, the tarp would give way to the power of the wind, at least outside, the tarp wouldn't have to fight against the storm.
The deep, searing pain that pelted against his exposed skin rapidly became severe, but he willed himself to complete the task. A few moments of eternity later, he collapsed upon the ground inside, panting as he unwrapped the jacket from his face.
His hands immediately shot out to grab the metal canister, popping the lid off and pooling the liquid into an open palm before splashing it into his raw eyes. He blinked away the grit, wincing at the sharp sting before bringing the can to his lips. He hadn't realized how thirsty he was until he forced himself to stop after three mouthfuls. Who knew where they would find fresh water again.
Once he could see again and his thirst was somewhat satisfied, he sat back, pulling the jacket back over his shoulders in silent contemplation.
