Why do we always have to be the rearguard? I'm tired of eating dust.

  I ignored the mouthy slug. He loved the heat. I, however, was covered in dust, and melting in the sun. My [Gelatinous] nature did not stand up to the dry, hot air.

  A faint breeze tugged at my head wrap. I lifted my eyes, the sun beat down overhead. The morning breeze had died hours ago, and it was too early for the evening fugue.

  I scanned the shimmering horizon.

  "Do you see what I'm seeing?" I asked, my legs dangling off the back of the wagon.

  A twist of sand. I squinted, shading my eyes. Blinking, I tried to wave away the image like it was a heat-induced hallucination.

  We need to sound the alarm.

  Richard's words snapped me out of my delusion.

  Standing to get a better view, I clutched the sideboards. A gust of wind whipped against my back, evaporating some of the pooled sweat. I shivered at the sudden coolness.

  In the distance, a red funnel scoured the desert.

  A flash of brown brushed my outstretched arm. A leaf? I looked down to see blood welling up along a faint line. Suddenly, a gust of air hit from the opposite direction, and I felt like I'd walked into an invisible spiderweb. Searing pain sliced through my face as the leaf flashed in my vision violently and then retreated on another current of air.

  "Sound the ALARM!" I shouted. My driver turned to give me a wide-eyed stare. Blood dripped off my nose as it pooled above my eyebrows. Damn head wounds.

  "Richard, I think I need some help." Dazed, I sagged against the sideboard, my hand unsure where to stanch the flow of blood.

  Deep blows from the driver's horn put a smile on my face. At least he listened. My hand fell from the wound as the oxen slowed to a halt. My vision pulsed with the throbbing of my head.

  The wagoner cried out. I turned too quickly, the world spinning for a moment. Red blood splashed into the sand as a leaf sliced into an ox. It collapsed as the long score had hit the beast's jugular. The warning bellow of the horns grew more frantic.

  Richard still focused his eyestalks on the distant swirl of sand.

  "Help, you useless slimeball!" As I said the words, I knew I should act. I rifled through my pack, looking for my first-aid kit.

  We are so screwed.

  Another leaf tore at my exposed back. How deep was the cut? My hands moved mechanically, searching, as I blinked, trying to clear my vision from the thickening blood. My [First Aid] skill kicked in. I should use my head wrap as a bandage.

  Distantly, I was aware that the entire caravan had ground to a halt as I unwrapped my head.

  Let me help.

  Richard's wet body suddenly clamped onto my neck as he slimed over my hair, creaming across my face.

  "What the hell?" I muttered, sounding drunk, as the fringe of his curtain quivered past my nose. The ache in my head faded as the numbing property of his blue, gluey slime took over.

  Richard sat on my head like a yellow skullcap.

  The throbbing continued to recede as I numbly watched the wind funnel approach slowly. A frantic corner of my mind screamed at me to take cover, but I felt like I was underwater, each movement slowed and muted.

  Tandy jogged up, looking at the oxen.

  "What's going on, Cole?" Tandy asked, her face wrapped in concern.

  "I-I don't know." The words were untrue, but I didn’t want to admit my guess. My eye had caught the culprit of my injury, embedded in the sand. A single, triangular serrated leaf.

  My wagoner, Leni, had joined us. A portly man, who sold [Enchanted] sachets for smelly adventurers and weary travelers.

  "I saw something brown. Maybe a leaf?" Leni added, confirming my worst fear. "Don't know why there’d be a leaf in the desert."

  My mind raced. It wasn't just any leaf. It was a Heltenic aspen leaf, I was sure.

  Blood sprayed Tandy as Leni crumbled. Tandy cried out, I couldn't tell if the blood was only Leni's.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Take cover! Richard used his team-speak ability.

  I woozily jumped down and started pulling Leni under the wagon. Tandy joined me, pulling hard at Leni's motionless body as another leaf fell in the sand to the right of us. I tugged at Leni, trying not to look too closely at the bloody spot on his chest. We had to get to safety, and then I'd deal with the injury.

  [Your Mom's Party] had been relegated to guarding the rear of the caravan chain, a fat lot of good we'd done. Ash ran up to the wagon followed by Meredeath, walking.

  Wordlessly, Ash slotted in, taking Leni's feet as we all heaved. Meredeath stood looking at us, shaking her head.

  “Meredeath, help!” Tandy called out, but the [Death Knight] bent low in the sand, carefully picking up one of the offending leaves.

  With a couple of heaves, we got Leni under the wagon without Meredeath's help.

  Tandy moved quicker than I, even with blood streaming down her own face. She took a wad of cloth and pressed it into Leni's wound. The man didn't twitch.

  "Ash, grab my pack," I commanded as I turned to Leni. He looked almost peaceful unconscious.

  I lifted an eyelid.

  A glassy, fixed pupil stared at me sightlessly.

  Bending down, I put my ear to his chest as Tandy tore away his shirt trying to find the wound.

  It was too late.

  I waited, watching Tandy as I kept my ear to his nose, waiting for a sign of life.

  Richard clung to my head, numbing my pain.

  You can't save everyone. Focus on Tandy.

  "Tandy, you're hurt too? Ash, where's my pack?" I had a job to do. Tandy looked up at me, her eyes frantic. My heart clenched as the words froze in my gut.

  "He's dead," Meredeath said with eerie certainty. The goth had struggled in the heat and sand, her mood souring daily as her black aesthetic took a beating in the desert. She held up the leaf carefully, all her grumpiness fading into the business of the situation. "What the fuck is this?"

  I opened my tin containing strips of plantain.

  Let me eat that. Richard interrupted my plans.

  "Eat it? It's for her wound," I said quietly, as the cut on Tandy's scalp oozed blood. I could see that a swath of her braid had been cut away.

  I have an [Imbue Slime] skill that will magnify the herb. I just want to use it on you first, then I'll get Tandy.

  I couldn't argue. Richard chewed on the small stack of dried plantain I fed him. As he munched on it, he drug his undercarriage across my wound, his slime glowing a rich blue as the skin on my scalp pulled together.

  Meredeath tapped the leaf with a finger, it made an almost metallic tink, which confirmed my identification.

  "That's an aspen leaf," I said as Richard undulated down my arm towards Tandy.

  "Man, I've seen a lot of aspens in my time, and that is not from a trembling aspen." Ash took the leaf from Meredeath carefully. Testing the edge of the leaf, he cut a thin line on his finger.

  "It's a Heltenic aspen leaf. The trees are nasty creatures that have come over the mountains. Dad used to tell stories about the early settlement days, and everyone banding together to take out a copse. Hell, I think, Leo—" My heart panged. I swallowed the knot in my throat. "—had to deal with a few as part of the lumberjack crew." The foresters had to keep up with any infestation, harmless at first they became deadly during a drought. The serrated edges hardened into razor-thin flying disks of death in the wind.

  "We're a long way from the Heltenic forests..." Tandy's voice trailed off as Richard creamed her head, releasing plantain-infused blue slime.

  Tandy reached forward and took the leaf from Ash, carefully pinching it between two fingers. She grimaced as she held it, the barbed sides of the leaf biting into her hand. Dried like this, the leaves were little thorny portents of doom. Various people had tried to weaponized them over the years, to their own detriment.

  "I didn't think there was a drought this year." Tandy looked at me with concern. A swarm of these leaves could take out an entire village.

  "Things seemed wet enough when we left." A glob of Richard's leftover slime picked that moment to slither down her face. We both had the same thought: if these were loose in the desert, was Woodsten okay? Suddenly, our return home had an urgency to it.

  A thunk sounded from the wagon bed above our heads. Maybe we should focus on surviving today, then worry about Woodsten.

  I risked sticking my head out from under the wagon, my scalp pulled as I frowned. The caravan was devastated. A couple of the oxen had panicked as their peers fell victim to the leaves and bolted aimlessly into the desert only to get hit themselves. I could see several people hunkering down under wagons, as lost as we were.

  Meanwhile, the funnel cloud had only grown bigger. It wasn't just leaves hitting the sand, but pebbles and rocks. In the distance, I could see cacti caught in the whirlwind.

  I think we're in trouble.

  I ducked back as another leaf slammed into the ground inches away. I turned to find my three friends looking at me as though they expected me to know what to do.

  My mouth was open, ready to deflect to Tandy when [Heartbeat] thrummed. I took a moment and looked at her. Blood caked on her hands, her braid hanging half shaved off, the slime slowly pulling her scalp back together. She looked lost.

  "Let's work our way forward in the caravan, collecting who's left alive." It wouldn't solve our situation, but it'd give us a purpose while I frantically tried to think about what to do next. Tandy nodded, as though I'd provided the key to our survival.

  "I think I can reinforce a shield for us if we can get a couple of boards out of that next wagon." Ash pointed to a wagon that'd been hauling lumber for some of the constructed stalls at the Hunt encampment.

  It was a great idea and proved that we just needed a direction.

  Taking a deep breath, I tried calming myself, yearning for the peace [Meditation] provided. Rocks and leaves hit the sand in a random pattern, like a chaotic hailstorm. I knew it was only going to get worse, we had to go now, or we were toast. My knuckles were white as they clutched the axle as I tried to build up my courage.

  You've got this. Richard gave a rare nudge of encouragement, which only fueled the burbling fear that I absolutely did not have this.