It was hot, even this close to the shoreline. Polly's soft yellow paws scraped against the hard, compacted sandstone. A small, white butterfly tickled her nose, and as it fluttered into the blue sky, the tark'ee chased after it. She raced up a small mountain of pebbles, breaking to a height above the flowing sand dunes. She swatted at the insect, and as it fluttered away, gave a pained, "Awh!"–but then she noticed something else. Among the scattered golden tufts of wheatgrass growing on the sand lurked the movement of an animal with black spots. "Polly! There you are!" Shenzi grabbed up the pup by the scruff, while Skritch, their white-furred captain, scowled impatiently. "What did we tell you about running off?" He warned.

"I know," Polly sighed, sitting down and curling her tail around her legs. "It costs too much money to call a rescue team," she mimicked his voice. Sometimes, she thought that the strict Captain didn't care about anything aside from himself and making money. "But there's actually something out there–" She protested. Shenzi's orange eyes narrowed as the pup gestured wildly to the Issiq plains. Kukemba's ears felt hot, almost like someone was talking about her and she didn't know it. She stopped, pensive, and clawed at the ground slightly.

"Where?" Shenzi asked, her black fur brushing against Polly's green as she sat behind her. "We don't have time for this," Skritch snarled, throwing up his hands in exasperation–it didn't matter to Shenzi. She'd let this Captain bully her for years–maybe it was a time for a change in Sea-Cucumbers leadership. Polly gestured to the desert plain and, surprisingly–It was Kukimbia who saw the colony first, not the other way around.

Skritch and Shenzi blinked in shock at black-and-yellow face with a surprised, wide-open mouth. Then, they saw the tsabhua, perfectly camouflaged for the desert terrain, burst into the sparse shrubbery. "Oh craps, a colony totally saw me!" She exclaimed. "Wait up!" Shenzi leapt after, having never met a native before.. She knew that following wasn't a good look, especially when you were trying to earn someone's trust–but what other option did she have? "Who are you?" Skrich called out in a loud, demanding voice–one that was hardly helpful, either. Polly rushed out on her own, her paws bouncing into soft, sandy terrain.

Skritch stayed on the sandstorm platform, calling out again once and then just looking annoyed. He stared as though an invisible camera ought to capture his frustration. Shenzi ran after the tsabhua, surmounting up one dune of sand and then down another, but even as an experienced huntress–she was not used to the Issiq desert. Just when she thought she saw a figure poking out of the wheatgrass again, it was just a bush behind Skritch–she'd managed to go all the way around, in a big circle! "Dang it all," she hissed. They could've asked that native for some directions, at least--this savannah just looked for miles around like well, a savannah!

Polly, panting and running through the wheatgrass, fought to keep up with Kukiemba–but finally did. The tsabhua was crouched low with her hind end up, staring ahead at something beneath a cactus. "Shh," she warned Polly, lifting a hand to give the quiet signal. Then she slowly lurched forwards. The tark'ee stared on, thinking that the cheetah-colored tsabhua might pounce on a jaebo. Though she squinted her eyes, and she couldn't see one. Instead, Kukiembia crept quietly forwards and then plucked a small, yellow flower from the ground. "I've finally got it!" The tsabhua cheered.

"Where'd Polly go off again?" Shenzi asked, exasperated. Skritch's tail flicked too, only more infuriated. "I don't know!" He complained, "You were supposed to be watching her, then you ran off after some–some huldah or something." Shenzi corrected him, shaking her head. "No way--That was a native. Huldah don't talk." The two's eyes both widened–they'd let the pup escape into the wilds after a native–one who could've been a cannibal, axe-murderer, or even worst of all, a dentist! "We have to find her, now!" The two started running, straight past where Polly and Kukimbia actually were and on into the distant golden hills.

"You're not a hunter at all," Polly realized. The cheetah-coated tsabhua merely shrugged. "Do I need to be one?"

"Well, I guess not," The tark'ee agreed, bobbing her head. "But..." She glanced around, "Where's your family?"