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In the shadowed corners of the realm, whispers speak of a creature both revered and feared—a nimble, silver-furred mouse with eyes like twin embers, said to carry the weight of forgotten prophecies. Its paws leave faint glyphs glowing in the dirt, trails only the desperate or damned dare follow. Some claim it’s a guardian of hidden gateways, others a thief of souls drawn to crossroads under moonless skies. Hunters seek its pelt for charms, fools chase it for wishes, but none grasp the truth: it chooses who finds it, leading them to ruin or revelation. Legends warn that to meet its gaze is to unravel the thread of one’s fate—stare too long, and the world unravels with you.
description
The horizon shivers with heat haze as you crest the dunes. Your mount's claws sink into burning sand, sulfurous winds carrying whispers of the oasis that shouldn't exist—not here, not after the Devouring. Three suns glare overhead, their light fracturing against the crystalline ruins jutting from the desert's belly. Your water-skin's nearly empty, but the scarab compass in your palm thrums, its carvings now glowing the same venomous green as the storm gathering behind you. Choices crystallize: Chase the mirage's promise of shelter, risk scavenging the unstable ruins for ancient vapor-traps, or turn and face the tempest. Every option bleeds poison, but the sands forgive no hesitation. What survives here isn't strength. It's hunger. And the desert's always hungriest right before the rains.
