Green Desert - Chapter 4.1.2 - Fírí

Coolness dribbled over my lips, down my chin, onto my chest. I opened my mouth and sucked in the wonderful water. My mouth tasted like mud. I drank more.

The water stopped. I opened my eyes. Pí‘oro knelt beside me, a wet cloth in his hands and concern in his eyes. “How are you feeling?”

Trees. Leafy green trees glowing against the pure blue sky, fluttered in a breeze I couldn’t feel. I sat in shade, in a narrow ravine filled with bushes and trees and a little creek. Water. Burbling water. Birds chirping. Leaves rustling. Zhíno lay beside me, still asleep, still naked. He didn’t look sunburnt. My legs and arms were still pale, too. Hunh.

“Fírí?”

I looked up at the old man, the big strong man who’d carried me and Zhíno over a kilometer of desert. “Yes?”

He released a short breath, his body relaxing. “How do you feel?”

“Tired. Thirsty.” And now that I thought about it, the elephant started to come back, stomping around in my brain, louder and louder. “And a headache.”

“Dehydration. Hold on.” He scrambled back to the stream, pushed the cloth underwater, then pulled it up, holding the corners so it didn’t spill, just dripped like a sieve. He hurried back to me, held the leaky cloth over my mouth.

I opened up and let it flow in. Not quick enough. I reached up with both hands and squeezed the balloon of water, pushing it down into my mouth.