Soup in a Dust Bowl

[Kinaki-sungow Massabawara]

Like a serpent in the sand, Kin-sun slithered dangerously close to his prey. Wrapped in shades of cream and brown, protected from the twin suns and blended into the endless desert. His eyes, exposed through a narrow slit in his headwrap, were intense; more fierce than the sky; fixed upon his prey; a large dune lizard.

The heat on Tatooine burdened all with its choking, thick weight. Relentless, the twin suns glared down upon the sea of burning gold and all caught in the wild snares of The Jundland Wastes. Sand mountains rolled into the unbroken horizon and swooping valleys dug deep, vain to elude the light and heat, and failed. Here, there was no shelter until twilight painted a canvas of dark across the sky. Then came the storms.

Kin-sun closed in on the creature, desperate to find shelter. He didn't make a sound. Not as he breathed softly against the cloth. He didn't make a sound. Not while crafting smooth ripples in the sand. He didn't make a sound. Not as he slid the feathered dart into a long pipe. He didn't make a sound. Not as he brought the pipe to his lips.

[A Rancor]

The heat blazed down up its shoulders, it felt heavier than usual. Since it had broken free and killed its minders, tatooines sun was all it had known.

Walking with no clear or purpose or direction, the Rancor was exploring, though not very cautiously. Its senses picked up, aware of something interesting nearby.

*Sniff* *Sniff* Food

The huge beast caught sight of the dune lizard, roaring as it saw prey. The rancor blundered over, unawared of anything but a smaller creature, a smaller creature that smelt good. Its huge claw reached up and over its head, ready to splinters its target into a thousand edible pieces.

[Dan the Man]

A tall, lean figure walked over a stark sand dune. His silhouette was nearly dissolved in the blinding sun at his back, making his approach seem ghostly to both the Tusken and the Rancor, as the hot air turned his feet and legs into noncorporeal tendrils, and phantoms of the eye.

He moved casually, pulling apart a wide duster, and drawing two gleaming metal pistols. Pulling back the power actuators with each thumb, the shootist fired a pair of shots at the Rancor's feet, turning the sand in front of the monster into glass.

"Now git!"

[Kinaki-sungow Massabawara]

Trapped in the stand-off between a ferocious beast and its ghostly aggressor, Kin-sun slinked back, burying himself in a sheet of sand. He watched, eyes wide, daring not to move.

His gaze flickered from the rancor claws to the shimmering spirit and to the point in the sand where the strange creature had fired its weapon. The native stared in awe at the strange, liquid glass, smoking in the sand.

He wanted that weapon and to get it, he would have to kill the spirit.