Randi stretched her legs carefully, wincing at the sore muscles, and thanked her lucky stars that the store owner had been -very- overweight.
She finished off the remains of what had been supper, now breakfast, and got up.
Her few possessions dangled in the old possibles bag she carried, a momento of her father's. The worn leather strap sat comfortably on her shoulder as she prepared to head out on a new day. The sun made all the dull buildings look rusty this morning. Randi set out down the supposed state highway, feet padding in worn shoes down the dirt road.
The crow cocked it's head and peered down from the rooftop at the lone figure. An almost unatural intelligence gleaming in it's onyx eyes. It decided that this one was worth following for no other reason than to follow and stretched it's wing as it dove off the rooftop and into the air, the sun's rays giving it's feathers an almost metallic sheen.
Anyone looking at her would have sworn she was made like a saddle: wood all covered in leather. Her skin was tough, her body lean, and she loved traveling in the morning.
Randi whistled to herself and let the miles slip behind.
The crow glided overhead easily, it's wings catching what few thermals it could and using the power of it's wings to keep it aloft.
A stand of cacti became both her lunch and her dinner guests. Randi knew all the ways of the desert, including where to find food and water by the side of the road. She took out a slim whetstone and smoothed the burrs from the edge of her knife. The cacti hid a slight overhang where she leaned up and napped through the heat of the day.
And then, off again. Randi reached the next village right at dusk.
And there was the crow, perched watchfully a top the tallest building in the village. Though it was a meager two stories it afforded the avian a view of the entire landscape for a mile or more beyond the meager grouping of structures.
Randi cast about for a place to get a few odds and ends as well as to stay the night. The village was one of those old, weathered things made out of clay that sit out in the desert like discarded toys. Rough edges where some of the buildings had cracked completed the illusion with childish bite-marks. The only things made out of wood besides doors were the outhouses Randi could just see behind a few of the buildings.
It didn't take long for her quick eyes to spot a likely place for supper. She stepped in the door and looked about. The place was as worn as every other, but had the kind of close warmth that spoke of homesome people lingering around a few tables set out on an oxblood floor. Randi stepped over to the slight bar and slipped her satchel off her shoulder. It wasn't long before the owner of the place spotted her.
"Good Lord, gal! You're as skinny as a snake. You need to get yourself some feedin'." The middle-aged man leaned over the counter at her as if confiding some ancient secret.
Randi just smiled. People were much the same all over, and here was another kind soul, just what she hoped for. She pulled out some old, wrinkled money. "You have something stick-to-yer-ribs here that's cheap?", she asked, knowing the answer already.
"Oh, yeah. We got some stew that's decent enough and ought ta fill you out a little." The owner of the store turned about to perform the dance of a one-man server, grabbing a bowl and a plate and the food all at once, it seemed.
Randi smiled and, once-served, ate appreciatively. Survival in the desert was easy for her, but the food out there left much to be desired.
The crow for its part continued to sit and observe the sleepy little village. It's keen eyes picking out most movement and observing it, however briefly before continuing on to the next. One item in particular seems to hold it's attention longer than most, not because of detail but because of its lack thereof, at least to the casual observer. To this observer however it was a thing rife with beauty and wonder, it's surface glinting and sparkling as the rays of the sun danced over it. Yes to this one even a piece of tin foil was wonderous.
Randi finished her meal and went outside, looking over the flat, lonesome landscape. Her goal over the next few days was that set of buttes over in the distance, normally red but now tinged with reflected fire and deep shadows from the sunset behind her. The air breathed its cool, dry whisper as the desert night chill began to take hold. Randi laughed and pranced a lively dance for a few steps. When she stopped, her bright eyes reflected the last rays of the sun's setting, yet there was no moon tonight to brighten the desert.
The new moon; a time of magic. Randi decided to keep going for the first part of the night. it was dangerous, but she was in a mood for it.
The crow once again shifted its attention to the lone figure wending her way out of the village and tilted its head as if contemplating its course of action. Deciding that the figure was the most interesting thing going on (aside from the tin foil), the crow hopped off the roof and winged its way after the vagabond. The crisp night air ruffled its feathers as it soared through the sky, catching thermals and the occasional breeze to help it along.
Randi practically danced. The light faded quickly, as it often does in the desert, but the stones themselves gleamed whitely amidst the dust and dirt. The darker than dark shadows of the rare cacti and the occassional very tough pine provided signposts to follow. The noises and chill of the desert night settled. The silent whirring of the bats, the squeeks and scuttles of the tiny mammals in dry land, the shifting of dirt and sand around insect lairs. All of it was the well-accustomed orchestra of the night, accompanied by a background of deep quiet, as if the land was too large, too profound to say anything at all.
Somewhere, out of place in the moonless night, a coyote howled. The single, jarring note that would be normal on a brighter night silenced the usual throng. There was a hush that lasted three strong heartbeats.
The noises resumed, slowly, with a more restrained air than before. Somewhere, something large snarled.
Randi froze, another dark shadow in the lightless night.
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