My boots thump against the compact sand. my mouth is like sandpaper. I could crumble dust if i wanted. I almost slam into the tree. I must have been too detracted by my thirst. I stop, panting. a bow and arrow are good hunting tools, but when it comes to water, it may as well be a pair of fluffy slippers. this gift had better be water. THUMP THUMP THUMP. At first I thinks its my heart, but then I see the cloud of sand on the horizon. "oh snap" I mutter, and climb the tree.