Was the sky actually white right now? No. No, it couldn't be, that's impossible. It was as though the sun had managed to burn away every drop of moisture in the air. Sikulu lifted his head barely, only to wince at the harsh glare and drop it back down.
He should've known from the get-go that this was an idiotic idea. Asking directions from any friendly face usually didn't end in death. Then again, the civet he'd asked did have a vulture hanging around him, and they were both pretty happy when he mentioned the desert. Sikulu would have growled if his throat didn't feel like parchment. If he survived this, he swore to go back and throw them both off a cliff.
These deserts were completely unlike anything he'd encountered before; not a sign of vegetation. His paws, now practically charred from the sand, nearly tripped over the bleached skull of some poor gazelle. At least they were adapted for this environment; he was definitely ill-equipped with all this extra fur and mane. Each intake of hot air made his nostrils ache. It was like NOTHING could live here!
With the sun climbing ever higher in the sky, Sikulu's treading turned more and more into a stumbling ballet. His paws danced over each other in an arrhythmic pattern as he tried to steady himself. But he was starting to succumb to heat stroke, and even a lion from the ocean knew he needed to get out of the sun's harsh reach. Up ahead, he thought he spied a craggy boulder; it was hard to tell from the heat waves (and his own blurred vision).
Summoning up the last of his strength, the fallen prince hurried towards the boulder as quickly as he could. It was a charge in vain, though, as his legs gave out and he spilled into the sand like a bottle of ink.