After a short nap, afternoon rolled in and the tortoise awoke full of energy. The sun hung at its zenith, bearing down on the lands. A wave of heat stroked the land while a dry breeze seemed to sap all the moisture in the air rather than cooling it down. The difference between night and day was a big one indeed. The nights were as cold as the tundra while the days were as hot as an oven. An unforgiving land this was, but a wasteland it was not.

Normally, high temperatures were good for it, with it being a cold-blooded animal. However, the temperature never stopped rising. It moved on from the cactus, moving further into this isolated greenery in the middle of a desert.

With each step, the temperature seemed to go up a notch. Hot air became visible, twisting and distorting sight. Insects in the distance let out shrill chirps. The greenery that seemed to be only a short walk away suddenly became unreachable, not getting closer no matter how much the tortoise moved.

Every step was accompanied by searing heat as the floor felt like lava. The only relief was when its claws dug into the ground and found the slightly damp soil underneath the arid topsoil. Even that was temporary, as the undersoil became as dry as the topsoil. The plants that had surrounded the tortoise on all sides faded away, replaced by the occasional brown weed.

It had passed by a small outcrop, perhaps kept alive by a small underground pool of water. Or maybe a passing shower left behind a streak of brief fertility. With the plants being of the variety that can survive with barely any water for years, who knows how long ago this might've happened. If there was a pool, it might've dried up months ago.

The dryness didn't affect the tortoise too much. The liquids in the cactus flesh quenched its thirst and the species itself had adapted to conserving liquids. How was a creature to live in the desert without some sort of countermeasure to the lack of water? Not to say it didn't need water. Just that it could make do with less or take in more and conserve it for a long time.

The tortoise did this in a simple way, by not urinating. It had a strong bladder that stored water for both expulsion and consumption. With expulsion being extremely rare. Holding in piss for long periods of time doesn't go so well for other animals.

More time passed and the temperature never ceased its onslaught. Even for a creature that's adapted to the desert and is cold blooded could no longer stand it. Going forward wouldn't change anything for a long time. Turning back wasn't an option, nor was staying still. There was no shelter for miles and tortoises can't fly. That left one option, down.

The tortoise began digging in the soil, its sharp claws easily tore through the dry topsoil and began carving out a small hole. Every time it got a little bigger, the edges collapsed somewhat and filled it in. Thankfully, it got dug out faster than it was filled in. A few centimeters below the surface was harder, darker, and cooler. It quickly became just like the topsoil within a few seconds of being exposed to the sun, but it held strong and didn't crumble as quickly.

A hill formed behind the tortoise while a burrow appeared in front of it. At some point, it stopped digging and just rested in this indentation of the land. Soil from the sides collapsed partially and covered the shell, protecting it from the harsh sun. It only felt a bit cooler but that was all that was needed and it was tired from the moving around and digging.

What helped was that the sun no longer hung directly above it, noon had passed and with it, the high temperatures. The land began to cool down gradually, like an oven turned off. The heat from before remained while new heat didn't come as strongly, slowly dissipating.

The tortoise took another nap while the land cooled down around it. The blazing hot soil became a soothing warm and acted like a blanket, lulling it to sleep. Hours zipped by with the tortoise isolated from it. From a slow-moving creature's perspective, the difference between minutes and hours was minuscule.

It didn't stay that way the rest of the day. The temperature dropped far past the point of being comfortable. By the time the sun was about to set, the soil around the tortoise became an ice cube, sticking to and chilling its body instead of a blanket. A light breeze passed by and cut through its skin like razors, far more painful and effective than a cactus's spine.

With a single shift of its body, did the sands fall, revealing this ancient beast. Ancient it may not be literally, but it could surely live long enough to be considered as such. It crawled out of its makeshift burrow and continued on its journey. The dying light of the sunset pointed towards the greenery that finally began to look closer.

It was still far away. Way beyond the tortoise's grasp. It could even be just a mirage in the distance caused by the inhospitality of the land, granting false hope to entrap those who wander in. Or it could be a sacred place thriving with life. The tortoise did not hold any of these thoughts, it just saw it and felt like it was a good direction to go in.

For such a slow creature, the main point of going somewhere was to just go and think about the rest on the journey as there'd be plenty of time to do so. It was reassured that it was heading in the right direction due to the presence of cacti and wild grasses sprouting up every ten meters.

The distance that felt unobtainable quickly closed in. The sun fell completely and the moon hung low in the sky, watching over the tortoise. It felt just as full as the night before with a little less radiance. Before the destination could be reached, the moon approached its throne in the center of the cosmos and the day ended alongside the chapter.