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"No. I could not tell that things were going terribly wrong, Mr. Boreas. The fact we are in an endless desert with bloody red skies and a sun that never sets was the first hint to me that something was wrong."

Despite the hint of sarcasm in his voice at the moment, Howl's tone almost came across as professional. Something you would have heard a businessman say.

A slim finger pointed towards the brown mound. "I do not know if it the cause or not of our misery. In all honesty, I really do not care either." It went unmentioned that they were going to die in this place. Whether it was from heat exhaustion or from some strange "speck creature" which gave Boreas the heebie jeebies was a whole different issue.

Daringly, Howl paced forward, slightly closer to the mound, but not very close at all. It was enough to see the blood. Then, Howl paced back towards Boreas. He repeated this process several times. The teal-haired figure didn't speak as he did this, but the way he walked and the way he looked back and forth between the bloody mound and his companion on this crazy trip seemed to make it obvious what was going on. Howl was debating whether or not to approach this foreign piece to the puzzle.

Teal eyes glanced to the hand, then to the dark lenses that should have been over his own eyes. Once more, Howl's eyes fell upon the gloved hand.

It looked absolutely filthy.

"I will accompany you."

The effeminate lad did not bother taking the offered hand. Instead, he offered a simple nod, and awaited for Boreas to lead the way. It wasn't a difficult decision if someone else was calling the shots.

Sailor Boreas truly was in the worse shape of the pair. Howl was suffering, but he at least was able to recognize that he had no real right to complain. Boreas had been running with that outfit across the desert with a passenger on his back. In contrast, Howl had been riding for a majority of the time upon this young man's back.

There was no comparison.

As they drew closer, the blood became more and more noticeable. All the other previous paces in this direction had been a bit inaccurate. It only looked like a bit of blood. However, now it looked as if there had been a much more significant struggle. The thing that made Howl most uncomfortable was the fact he was barefoot and the blood was staining the very sand he would be walking on. That was absolutely filthy, filthy, filthy.

So it made sense when the teal-haired fellow stopped just short of the blood and just stretched his neck out as best as he could to get a look.

His answer to Boreas' question was simple. "It is dead."

At least, it looked dead.

Oh please let whatever it was be dead.

It was certainly dead, whatever it was. In fact, as they got closer they could see that the carcass they were looking at did indeed seem to be a camel, prostrate in the sand, its lifeless head dug partly into the sand as though it were utterly exhausted. Its eyes were rolled skyward. Farther down, they could see that a large -- well -- a large bite had been taken out of it. The single crescent of what appeared to be the jaws of a huge creature cut a hole that had removed most of the camel's ribs and stomach, as well as all of one leg and half of another. All this in a single bite, leaving the rest.

The single bite didn't account for all the blood strewn across the sand, but then, the dead camel didn't account for the man's footprints they had seen earlier, either. There were no footprints here belonging to any other creature than their camel -- not the man from before, nor whatever had done -- all this. But the camel certainly had not disemboweled itself.

Part of the saddlebags had survived intact, but the camel's body seemed to be pinning both the saddlebags and some finely woven cloth to the ground beneath its remaining bulk. The loose end of the cloth fluttered buoyantly in the wind.

The camel's body was mostly obscuring everything else from view.

Boreas couldn't tell which was worse: the blaring hot sun or the hideous sight before him. After some time spent inspecting the scene before him and a few helpful comments by Howl, he did indeed realize that is was a camel, though not a very good one.

"I'm glad it's dead. That was pretty scary for a minute there."

Now more questions arose for Boreas. Why had he felt so awful about reaching the scene? Where did the owner of the human foot prints go? What exactly had devoured the camel and left its carcass in the desert?

"Howl, do you have any idea what caused this? I feel better, but not much. I mean what exactly eats a camel like that? Or can survive in the desert?"

He paused for a moment. He knew Howl didn't have the answers, but it felt better to talk it out. Then he noticed the satchels that lay near the carcass. He quickly moved toward them and turned to Howl.

"I guess we should see what they left behind. Maybe there is some water."

Optimism, the glass half full. Though the sight of the camel was foreboding enough for the duo lost in the desert, at least they may find something to drink that didn't encompass sand.

"Alas, I am no veterinarian, so I cannot say what truly happened here."

Howl's arms were still folded up against his chest, and he began to walk about the perimeter again, pausing when he only made half the journey around the area. Despite attempting to push the optimism out of his mind, Boreas seemed to have the alternate approach and was already spouting some such nonsense as the possibility of water being in the cargo.

"The camel needs to be moved, Mr. Boreas. I can assist you, but, you need to assist me, if you could." His arms unfolded, and with a single finger, he gestured to the area in front of him all covered in bloody sand.

"I, unfortunately, do not relish the idea of walking around in this bloody sand. If you could sift it so that the clean sand beneath it is to the surface, I can join you and assist you with the carcass." Once more, his finger completed a circular swirling motion towards the sand in front of him.

Teal eyes watched as the white suited Senshi sifted the sand with his feet. If anything, it came across as if Howl was a supervisor with how carefully he was watching the other young man's actions. He even managed to note the vague shift in expression upon Sailor Boreas' face. Certainly, he was trying to put on a brave face amidst all of the strange goings on, but he could tell the slight difference between a forced smile and a truly lighthearted one.

The moment a pathway had been cleared, Howl glanced in front of himself, making certain he stayed on the sandy path, then began to step carefully forward. As he closed the gap between himself and the ash blonde, he offered his own practiced gentle smile.

"It would be a delight if such a luxury item was in the bag, but I highly doubt it. Oh, thank you, I would rather enjoy getting my sunglasses back." He tilted his head slightly to the side and extended his hand politely forward to take his property back when it was offered.

It is rather intriguing how our energy levels seem to waver so drastically in this place.

It was a silent observation, but it was rather notable. Moments ago, Boreas had been toppling over his own feet, and now he seemed to be rejuvenated by the miracle of positive thinking.

"Now, let us see." With his glasses back, he set them perched on his head for now as he walked up to the camel cadaver. He attempted to find a clean patch of fur to set his hand on, which was almost impossible. Yet, somehow, Howl managed to find perhaps the only clean portion of the camel's hide, and carefully lay his hand upon a small section just behind its hump.

"...there are a couple ways we can go about this. If you think you are able to lift it up for a bit on your own, I can reach under and tug out the baggage. Or we can both lift and attempt to move the body away. I am not picky, so I will let you decide, Mr. Boreas."

Howl was indeed picky, but he was trying to be considerate. If he had his say, he would go with the first suggestion. Considering how filthy this animal's pelt had gotten, it would merely lead to getting crusty, dried up blood under Howl's nails.

"Indeed, I would love to be covered in the camel's blood. It would be a tasteful reenactment of straight from the Lord of the Flies. Now we just need a conch shell." Tasteful sarcasm. It was not remotely bitter and simply just meant in humor. One had to be careful that their sarcasm was not misinterpreted or merely "rude."

With a smile and a weak, casual chuckle, he then pulled his hand back. His knees were bent, and his body tensed slightly as he kept his eyes upon his target, which was merely flagged by a small section of woven cloth.

Boreas' signal was less than eloquent, but it would make do. The moment there was any hint of lifting, Howl ducked in and reached under the carcass. Years of fencing had seen to him having quick reflexes, but it had never really done anything for his strength. He reached in and grasped at whatever he could get. He was easily able to wrap his fingers around the cloth with one of his hands, but he also attempted to snatch his fingers along one of the saddlebags.

Unfortunately, he really wasn't able to see exactly what he had grabbed onto with his second hand, but not really having the time to sit and ponder over what it could be, the moment his hand seemed to secure a grip upon the second object, he began to pull back.

The weight of a camel was already pretty heavy, and adding the fact it was a dead camel made the weight just that much more unbearable. Hopefully Boreas could handle it.