Lost in the Badlands
Tired and completely out of water for more than a day, Eza crested a dune and gaped in surprise at the unexpected sight of a tent mounted in a depression at the bottom of the pile of wind-blown sand, its burgundy fabric a stark contrast to the jaundiced wastes spreading away in all directions.
Her mouth literally watered at the thought of finally getting something to drink and some shade so without hesitation to the possible danger scampered down the slope and poked her ponytailed-head inside.
“Hello, little one.” greeted the tall, bronzed man within.
Eza shivered in fear but he gestured kindly for her to enter, “Come in, come in, you are welcome to stay, it’s very hot out there.”
The little brunette swallowed, then pushed back the curtain door and entered, bowed to the man as the door fell back, casting the square chamber into delicious shadow.
“Water?” he offered up a canteen.
She nodded greedily and he tossed it across the fire pit he’d been assembling from rocks he’d scavenged earlier in the day. Eza gulped down the mostly clean liquid as he watched the bulge in her throat go up and down in unison with the rise and fall of her high young breasts wrapped trimly beneath a tight blue camisole, cut just above her lean stomach.