Drip… drip… drip… the quiet sound of salty drops of sweat dripping from a narrow chin of a young woman hitting the scorching ground of blood-red stone and trudging forwards against the heatwave of sizzling air—if there was any air for her to suck in cooling down her lungs; but no, there weren't. If anything, it was searing dust and somehow a bit of salty smell that she inhaled in all this time, wheezing it and out. Such was perhaps one which sounded louder in her ringing ears than her own salty sweat dripping and hitting the scorching ground of blood-red stone, for everything was dead quiet here, not even the sound of a breeze passing through…
…but such noise might not be a lot louder than her own voice that echoed within her dimming mind,
"Dasht-e Khon… Red Plain of Emptiness…"
Mumbling through her wheezing breaths, the young woman tried to entertain herself with a flat smile mesmerized by the shimmering mirage that looked like tempting her from all around,
