Wild Hearts in North Africa

It was a beautiful morning.

It was a beautiful day.

It was a beautiful *afternoon*.

The sun blazed down on the sand and rocks of the desert, reflecting back off of the myriad of grains, sparkling in its glory. The air was positively sultry, warm and dry.

Rose sighed, wiping some sweat from her brow before reaching into her bag to pull out her canteen. She took a long swig of water, feeling it run down her throat, cooling as it went. She offered Chris another drink, who waved her away. "I'm good," he said, pulling his wide brimmed hat back down onto his forehead. He adjusted the strap that held his satchel to his back as he walked; Rose could hear its contents clinking quietly together until they settled at the bottom of their container. It had been about three weeks since the two had broken into a museum in Cairo, searching for rare artifacts that would allow them to break into a hidden vault beneath the sands of Egypt.

The first few days had been hot, but tolerable; they both carried enough water with them to be able to make it through without having to find any more sources for several days. Then night fell and rose again with no sign of help from the horizon. They decided to continue walking through the night so that they would put as much distance between themselves and where they had previously been while they were still able [to see].

They'd come across an old caravan road at dawn - probably dating back to when camel caravans were used regularly - and decided it would be best if they followed it rather than continuing onward overland. Rose looked over at Chris; he had told her multiple times how important it was that they stick to hours that were daylight-friendly so that they didn't run into most animals during the hotter parts of the day when they were likely all sleeping tightly beneath whatever shelter they could find. Since there were no humans nearby other than themselves and any animals were likely in hiding anyways, she figured that his advice wouldn't be necessary this time around - not that she doubted him or anything (she knew he knew more about surviving the desert than she did), just that she liked walking along this road for some reason she couldn't quite explain. It was almost...romantic? Maybe? She wasn't entirely sure why she felt like this way but decided not to question her own feelings and continue on with what she was doing.

She looked ahead at Chris again; he looked tired, but otherwise fine - though she knew better than anyone else how hard it was for him to admit when something was wrong (or even right) when it came to himself.

She debated with herself for a moment before deciding against what she wanted to do next; although she felt like Chris might be annoyed by it, she decided against stopping him and instead continued to walk alongside him in silence.