They are black, like the Hartani, dressed in blue, faces veiled. Even the men aren't the same as they are here.they are cruel, they stalk their pray like foxes, drawing silently near. Nights, the cold makes men who are lost scream out in pain, the cold breaks their bones. Everything is so different in that land the sun isn't the same as it is here, it burns hotter, and there are men that come back blinded, their faces burned. They die, drowned in the sand, they die lost like ships in a storm, and the sand retains their bodies. Sometimes there are storms, but nothing like here, terrible storms, and the wind tears up the sand and throws it high into the sky, and the men are lost.
Men go out into the desert, and they are like ships at sea no one knows when they will return. “Out there, in the open desert, men can walk for days without passing a single house, seeing a well, for the desert is so vast that no one can know it all.
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