The sandsailer cut a lonely path through the shallow sands.

Long, gentle dunes made for easy sailing, and had done for the better part of the day. Although the sands appeared low, he knew the fine grains reached deep. To go by foot, off of the known paths, was like wading through unwilling water.

But that wasn't his primary worry. Swordeater had been uncharacteristically quiet for the entirety of the day. Even he wasn't able to bear an uncomfortable silence for that long.

"You okay?" He tossed the words in Swordeater's direction without ever glancing away from the horizon.

"Yes." The man nodded, as he laid his hands over his knees and remained still. With the gentleness of the sands he didn't have to hold on or brace much.

"If you are hungry, you can eat." He continued, not believing that he was okay, but also not able to think of what would fix that. Eating something usually worked for him, so he figured it would work for Swordeater.

"I am not particularly hungry, but I appreciate it." The man threw a smile up that was even shallower than the dunes.

At least he had tried, so he didn't bother continuing when Swordeater clearly didn't want to talk. After two sentences he had enough too.

Once evening fell, Sandhailer rested the sailer on a slight elevation above the surrounding sandscape. The edge of the sky still had the intense peach hue of sunset, that softly scaled through yellow, faint green and then blue that fell into the black seas of night. A breeze stirred, the warmth of the sands swirling through the approaching cold.

For a few long moments Sandhailer crouched on one of the skids of his new sandcraft. He still had to familiarise himself with its quirks and oddities when steering, but it was similar enough to carry him through the desert without issues.

His moment of mulling things over did not last long though. He nimbly moved across the wood to the back, loosening some of the food tied there. The rations consisted mostly of dried fruits, nuts, and salted meat. He had some supplies to cook with, but wouldn't tonight since they had eaten extensively before they left.

Grabbing a small pouch of dried apples, prunes and dates, and then adding a palm's worth of meat, he walked over to Swordeater.

"Eat some." He said, as he handed over the meal. Swordeater glanced up at him and nodded, but there hung some melancholy in his eyes.

"You haven't eaten yet today, and you need to recover." Sandhailer clarified, to which Swordeater smiled as if somewhat amused – but then he nodded and took a small bite of the fruits.

Content that he got him to eat, Sandhailer moved to the other side of the sailer, as he had always done.

When he had had his meal, and drank his fill of water, Sandhailer put his veil up again and moved across the craft to Swordeater. The man usually finished before him, but this time he had eaten only half the meal, which wasn't large in and of itself.

"You didn't eat." He stated, as if it was a grave sin.

"I am not very hungry tonight." Swordeater shook his head, his voice soft and apologetic.

Worried by that, Sandhailer hopped down into the soft sands and moved before Swordeater. Using his khinjar he gestured for him to lift his shirt, to check his wound. The man did so, lifting his brown cloak and layers of linen cloth.

Sandhailer cut loose the bandages, and saw the now closing wound. The medicine woman had done her very best, and the salves and bandages had worked. It was not fully shut, but improving nonetheless.

Despite that, Sandhailer pressed the back of his hand against the skin surrounding it. It was warm compared to the cool air, but he didn't feel fever.

"You are not sick?" He asked Swordeater, and when he glanced up he caught a constrained smile, but only for a moment.

"No, not anymore." Swordeater said, to which he answered with a cautious nod. He didn't trust his lack of appetite, but saw no signs of infection. Rather than question it, he quickly went back and forth to gather supplies.

After a few moments of silence between them, while Sandhailer cleared the wound with water and applied salve, Swordeater spoke up again.

"My family arranged for two betrothed, before I was even born."

Although the sudden information caught him off guard, Sandhailer remained quiet. He didn't respond, but also didn't stop the man from talking.

"My whole life, everything has been set out for me. The clothes I wear, the food I eat, even the women I love. All for me to become as ruthless, and cold, and calculated as my father." There was disdain in Swordeater's voice, and thus far he had not yet heard such anger from him.

"If there is no good use to it, I shouldn't do it; and nothing I want is of any use." The rage faltered, and trembled with powerlessness. Sandhailer faintly remembered a similar feeling – for vastly different reasons. Rather than address it he just stoically continued to dress the wound.

"So I… skipped my lessons, my trainings. I slept with the daughters of important people." A soft chuckle left Swordeater. "Sometimes their sons too." A grin crept up on his face, as if he was proud of his deviant actions.

Sandhailer looked up, and pulled the ends of the bandages taut. It caused Swordeater to gasp, and for a moment he remained quiet, the smile wiped off of his face.

"My father found out." While speaking the words, Swordeater averted his gaze as if pained by the memory alone."So he sent me out in the desert, because it would either turn me into a strong leader, or kill me. My father would rather have me dead than as myself."

The anger returned. Swordeater pushed himself up, which prompted Sandhailer to get out of the way and jump atop the craft. He pulled one leg onto the wood and leant on it as he watched Swordeater's antics.

The man reached into his shirt, and after a bit of struggle managed to tug the bracelet loose. The rubies glimmered in the fiery rays of sunset.

"My whole life they taught me about the superiority of Yalmae. About glory, and strength and power." Swordeater shouted the words into the void, accompanied with theatrical flair and broad gestures. A bemused smile spread on Sandhailer's face, as the dramatic burst did entertain him somewhat.

"Its people should shudder before me." Swordeater turned around and pointed at him, presumably since he was the only human around for a hundred miles if not more. "And reach up at my feet just begging for me to accept every meagre thing they own as tribute." He held the bracelet up. Sandhailer rolled his eyes and sighed, not convinced by the over-emoted speech.

"But all this kingdom is built on is sand and fucking selfishness!" In a sudden, loud burst of rage, Swordeater dropped the bracelet and kicked it as hard as he could. The piece of jewellery flew an impressive distance, to be forever lost in the sands.

"Are you done?" Sandhailer half-shouted, which prompted a satisfied nod from Swordeater.

"Yes, I do believe so."

As he turned around and took a step in his direction, the man grimaced. For a few steps he hopped on one foot.

"Ah… mrgh. That actually hurt." Despite the groaning, there appeared to be a lingering joy in his voice. The man clambered onto the sailer and rubbed his toes for a few moments, but then grinned at him.

"I figured that if I were to tell anyone, it might as well be you."

Sandhailer nodded, but then stared out over the sands.

"I don't mind. You are amusingly stupid."

Swordeater chuckled and looked up into the sky for a moment. A pensive expression washed over him, together with rare quiet as he thought about things.

"All my life I have been surrounded by people, never left alone for even a single moment. But I felt more lonely then, than I do now."

A faint smile was thrown up his way, and Sandhailer smiled too, enough for Swordeater to pick up on it even behind the cloth.

"I know you are kind." Swordeater said rather abruptly, which made Sandhailer side eye him.

"I’ll put my khinjar to your throat." He spit back.

"And never use it," A wide grin spread on Swordeater's face. "You helped me; took care of me. You listened to me even though I said things I shouldn't have… and you didn't give up on me." The last words were spoken softer, as they clearly held weight for the man. "You are kind."

Swordeater looked up at him with a soft, grateful smile. The mahogany eyes drew Sandhailer in with admiration, but he promptly shook his head and stood up.

"Eat some more, and then sleep." He stated, pointing out the half-eaten meal still laying on the wood.

"Wait." Swordeater tugged at his sleeve to hold him back. He glared back, not keen on being interrupted, but that didn't deter the man. "Would you tell me your name, please? I'd like to address you properly."

A darkness came over him, which startled Swordeater and took the eagerness out of his gaze. He hadn't intended to take away from what appeared to be a forthcoming gesture, but wasn't sure how to express that he regretted it. Instead he wrenched his wrist loose.

"Just eat." Before Swordeater could say anything more, he dove underneath the tarp.