Saint Sergio

A lone wild dog wearily paced across the tundra. He could feel the dirt turning to sand under his paws. The air was becoming drier and colder at night, yet the days were burning hot. Ingwe peered about him with his one good eye. He'd traveled far in his wanderings. Searching for a new place he could call home. Life wasn't all that easy for the one-eyed dog. With one good eye, and the other only gave fuzzy images, it was hard to hunt. He'd been well suited in his old pack, that had saved him from a leopard, for pup sitting.
Ingwe was fond of the young. He'd been traveling too long on his own. He sighed and stopped to take a better look at his surroundings. Who would want to live out here? It was so hot and dry. A tongue as dry as the sand worked inside his mouth trying to find a bit of moisture. He needed water soon, or to leave the area.