Shifting Sands (Egypt Turkey)

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Gupta pulled his keffiyeh more tightly over his head, the sun was hot and dry as it struck the parched landscape, and though the young man was quite used to the desert climate, it was almost unbearable. Small droplets of sweat beaded on his forehead and he pushed the front section of the cloth around his head against his skin, hoping to sop it up. He loved the heat, relished in the way the sun gods rose each morning, giving life to the lands. That particular land in front of him didn't look very much alive, but Gupta knew better. It seemed like a desolate wasteland, no animals, no plants for miles. They were there of course, if you looked for them. Well, if you knew where to look.

He, naturally, had not even attempted to cross the desert on foot, he wasn't an idiot. You didn't need to be from the desert to know that going on foot wasn't a good idea. Instead he had bartered his best pots for two camels, on one of which he was currently perched, and he and long since got used to the gentle sway of the desert creature. The knowledge to bring two was probably a desert thing, knowledge that the general population wasn't privy to. It seemed natural to him, but he had grown up there, in the waterless world. The camels were fine with out water, for a while at least, but even they needed to eat, and he didn't want to over work them. One was packed with all of his supplies that he would need, the other carried him. He would swap tomorrow, giving one a break.

There was nothing for miles, rolling hills of sand, every now and then his vision blurred, the wind kicking up clouds of sand. The camels had a second eyelid, one to protect them from the sand, but Gupta wasn't so lucky. Though a desert creature as well, he pulled his keffiyeh lower, effectively blinding himself. One of the beautiful things about the desert, you could keep your eyes closed as long as you wanted, and when you opened them again everything looked exactly the same.

His destination was far from near, and absentmindedly, the Egyptian wondered whether anyone would follow him. In truth the event would be much more fun with a companion, however there was no way Gupta was about to ask someone to join him. He offered the opportunity and sincerely hoped that someone would take it. He had no idea how long it would take, days or weeks, maybe months. He had enough supplies for his journey there and his journey back, and a few days rations to spare, but he was unsure of how long he could feasibly be out there. It depended on what he found when he got there. And whether someone joined him.

[turkey]

The desert sands had no effect on the horse, or it's rider for that matter. The Merchant's Son turned oppurtunistic treasure-hunter was used to riding across less than hospitibal terrain like the sand below his mount's hooves. He knew how to handle horses on the soft earth, and the horse seemed to know it's footing well. They raced across the wasteland, hot on the tail of another rider, though this one traveled by camel. He had another of the sturdier desert beasts with him to carry supplies, while the Arabian stallion had been his choice of mount. Horses were just something he admired.

Finally the camels came into sight, one bearing a rider, the other supplies it would seem. Sadiq made his way carefully towards the man on the camel, riding his horse up next to the beast, his own pack animal trailing behind at an even pace. The man atop the camel looked familiar, even all covered up. Definately the man from the bar, though he had seemed familiar then too.

"Glad I caught up with you." He smirked, seemingly uneffected by the sands and heat. "Thought I'd gotten myself lost out here." The Turk was, by far, less wearied by his travel, the ride across the sands seeming to have lifted his spirits and made him more energetic than he usually was. That was how things were with him though, nothing made sense.

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Gupta smirked, though his face was obscured by the section of his keffiyeh that he had tucked into his headband to protect his face from the harsh winds that were whipping up sand. While the Arabian breed of horse was much more surefooted than their European and American counterparts, they certainly weren't the animal of choice for the long journey that he and his companion would be making. Perched atop his camel, Gupta pressed on, swaying from side to side with each step.

Minutes of silence passed, only the sound of the howling winds, more threatening then wolves themselves. He knew only too well what harsh winds could bring. Sand storms, more severe than the bits of sediment that were stinging his flesh. “I saw you follow me out of the pub,” it wasn't a question, merely a statement of fact, and he expected nothing in response. The man was familiar, the sort of familiar that made your head ache you were straining so hard to place it. But for the life of him, or the death perhaps, he couldn't do it, couldn't recall the face. He had seemed familiar back in the pub as well, and it was eating away at Gupta, who prided himself on his sharp wit and memory.

Surveying his companion, the Egyptian couldn't help but note the lack of supplies, and sorely hoped the man wasn't as much of an idiot as he seemed. Gupta knew the desert well, and he knew himself even better. Allocating food rations and water was simple math to him, and he could calculate exactly how much he would need for the journey and back, and a few days in between if they never found their own source. He hadn't bothered to factor in another person though, nobody went into the desert unprepared, even someone who didn't know it like he did.

“There's no telling when the next water source will be, nothing ever stays the same in this desert, even an oasis we stop at on the way could be gone by our return.” He was hesitant to pass judgement, he doesn't have all of the facts after all. So instead he phrases his question as a statement, allowing for some error. Perhaps the man knows more than he's letting on after all. Gupta doesn't bother to introduce himself, never one for pleasantries. He was more than comfortable letting his companion remain nameless.

[turkey]

Sadiq shrugged casually at the man. “Don’t think I don’t know a thing or two about deserts.” He didn’t sound concerned about the fact he had little supplies with him. Luck always favored him greatly, he had a feeling that the desert wasn’t going to claim him so easily. Still though, what he didn’t mention was that he was indeed fully prepared for the desert journey, storing some supplies within the saddle bags of his horse.

The creature seemed unreliable for desert travel, but he trusted horses more than he trusted camels. Camels were filthy creatures, and they looked very strange. He would rather a horse any day. Still he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ridden a camel that perhaps the man wouldn’t be giving him such a judging look.

“I’m Sadiq by the way.” He would have offered the man his hand, but they were presently both mounted, and he didn’t think that the man would accept it anyways. He seemed like he was already wary of him, and that didn’t make for a very assuring sign. Was the man already so judgemental?

There was an unusual coldness to the Egyptian, but somehow he understood it. Somehow he knew that this was the way he was and would always be. It was unavoidable.