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[worm-dancer.livejournal.com]

Being from (Ar)Rakis, Sheeana's first thoughts on the dark dreams that had been afflicting her fellow crewmates had more to do with hurricanes and sandstorms than clouds. The metaphor was the same though.

That was her thought as she sat in the lotus position in front of Arha's door (she would not leave her if she had another such dream, but would not tempt herself into sleep by joining her either). Sandstorms. She missed them so, the beating, suffocating, gritty howl of them. Real weather, to rasp at the skin, to shape both person and landscape. Sand or rock crunching underfoot, screaming winds, danger that could be understood and grasped by human hands. I am a desert creature. I need the environment I was born for.

She longed for them as for the touch of a lover.

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[worm-dancer.livejournal.com]

Sheeana reached over and hugged the mass of bones. She felt them and the armor dig into her skin. But she felt she could safely fall asleep there, though she would wake up with the imprint of ribs on her face.

"We are much alike. I joined my order at age twelve too, and assumed a position of responsibility far too young. I am also bound to a god that destroyed my home. I do not believe destiny is a benovelent force but if I were the type I would say it brought us right here."