Pain tugged and coursed through her body with every movement and with every beat of her mighty webbed wings. She was exhausted lost and hungry. She could fly no more and her strength was rapidly waning. Landing heavily and awkwardly she found herself in a sea of sand. The sand was coarse but warm. The sun was setting and soon it would be dark. Her hunting trip had failed miserably and her knowledge of these new lands was costing her dearly.
Magenta eyes scanned the vacant land for a shelter of sorts or food and water. Nothing but sand as far as she could tell met her gaze. At least only a tiny air current moved the air along which meant no sand storms or sand in her eyes. Exhausted she slumped down to the sand and curled up. She had her tail neatly wrapped around her body and under her paws. She laid her head upon her tail and stretched out her battered wings. She would soak up what heat she could from the sun and then fold them tightly against her body and fall into a deep sleep. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the warmth from the sand beneath her and the sun.
(Pets in siggy. I'll bring the Kirtell later.)