lone.

She moved the scarf further over her face, protecting it from the sand and her identity from any prying eyes. They were alone in the desert for now.

She estimated they had about half a days worth of water left in their canteen. Petunia stuck close to her side, her paws wobbling slightly. They had gone too long without food, or rest. But stopping and sleeping somewhere put them at risk of never waking up again. They had to keep trekking until they found water, plants… something. 

Ideally not people. People meant trouble.

They had to leave their last settlement due to… a stupid mistake, one she’d never be making again. Since then it’d just been her and Petunia, her golden brown sand cat, wandering the plains finding water and shelter where ever they could. Petunia was great at hunting and had kept them both well fed over the first few months. But things had slowly started to get worse. 

Gangs had infiltrated the plains, pushed out of the ruined cities. They would set up camp and drain their patch of all it’s resources, learning nothing from what had got them into this mess in the first place. Once they had used every last plant, animal and drop of water, they would try to expand their territory, divided inanely in this desert setting. Cross one particular rock, step onto the wrong grain of sand and you all of a sudden you were fair game.

Depending on how they measured you up, it could go a number of ways. If you had crossed someone on your travels; were skinny and malnourished; acted too cocky; were part of a rival gang, then you would be executed there and then to be used for meat. Folks have still got to eat after all. And in the sweltering heat they didn’t have time for begging or bargaining. But get them in a good mood, and if you had something they wanted, be it muscle, a spear, a relic from the old days, seeds… then they would try and set up a Mutual Gratification Agreement. Basically, a ‘you scratch our back, we’ll scratch yours’ kinda deal. You became initiated and put to work. Depending on your assumed gender, there were different kinds of work available. Women were always deemed useful, often in one way only.

Civilisation may have crumbled but the patriarchy still had it’s sway.

The map she had stolen from her previous settlement had said it was a three day hike to a safety point from their last makeshift camp - which was already pushing it in terms of their supplies - but when they had arrived it had been burned down and looted by the nearest gang.

She had kicked the remaining ashes of what used to be a haven of tents and containers and storage units and let out a screaming cry. Petunia made a curious, sympathetic *brrrrp!* noise and nudged her head against her leg. She looked down and gave her a scratch under her chin. “Thanks P. We’ll figure something out, I promise.”

From there they spent another two days tracking a travelling oasis rumoured to be in the area by following patterns of shifted sand and debris, as well as making use of Petunia’s excellent sight and hearing. It consisted of a makeshift cart dragged by a band of friendly drifters ready to disperse first aid, water, food and, if you bartered, a little company. 

She didn’t want to make use of the oasis officially. The hope was that some supplies would be knocked off the cart, or they could scavenge the place at night as the crew slept, pick up what they needed, and be on their way. 

With a near empty canteen and P visibly struggling, it was vital that they got something… anything. She’d risk being in close proximity to people for that.

But it was too much. 

Her eyes lost focus and the horizon started to blur. Her legs were giving way under her. Her chest felt heavy and tight. They couldn’t do this anymore. They couldn’t track the oasis. They couldn’t keep trekking. They had to find shelter now and prey to the old gods and the new that someone, anyone, would find them. She would give up everything just to stay alive right now. 

She turned her scarf into a papoose, scooped up Petunia and popped her inside so she could carry her on her front. Slowly, methodically, she put one foot in front of another, carrying them toward the shade of a nearby rock formation. She collapsed against the limestone and wept, cuddling into P and kissing her head. 

When they woke up they were handcuffed to a stretcher, looking up at the roof of a tent.