Bare feet, painted in her tribe's colors, carried her across the suns-bleached sands of the dunes. Spear in hand, she sprinted down the incline, as the great lizard rampaged over the top of the dune, looking down at her. It hissed loudly and continued the chase of its prey, its open mouth filling the area with the scent of fetid meat. Letrixia could feel every little vibration in the sands through her feet so she didn't need to look over her shoulder to know the distance between them was shrinking.
Everything was going according to plan.
She reached the dip between two dunes, sprinting back up over the next. Up ahead she saw the telltale signs of the younger hunters hidden in the sands, around a cone-valley. Amateurs. This is why they were here and not doing her job. The lizard hissed much more loudly, much closer now as Trix sprinted toward the valley. She sped up just a bit more, feeling it close in. But there was another feeling beneath the surface. Something large, awakened and prepared. As she reached the edge of the valley, she pushed off with a mighty leap, the final step feeling a surge of movement from beneath the surface.
As she dove through the air, she saw the sands of the valley explode beneath her, six massive mandibles shooting upwards. Letrixia threw her spear downward into one of its many eyes, as she tucked into a ball, narrowly avoiding the snapping mandibles. And while they missed her, they did not miss the large lizard, snapping around it. And that's when the other hunters struck. Large spears, angled upward were thrust into the creature's long body, then braced. As the creature attempted to retreat back into its hole, the spears pierced it more and more. A deafening high pitched chitter filled the air as Letrixia landed and rolled in the sand.
And when she stood up, it was night time.
Magic!
She immediately assumed a defensive posture, her long knife pulled, and her body crouched down as she quickly took in her surroundings. Her eyes fell upon a round structure nearby, made of some material she didn't recognize. She quickly moved in behind the barrel, hiding her small form entirely. Her back was against a wall made of the same foreign substance and she could feel so many heartbeats, voices, warmth inside. She saw a dark haired, dark demeanored man appear out of thin air and walk toward the building she hid against without a care in the world. She saw his eyes fall upon a sign over the doorway, runes she could not read. He looked amused, as he entered inside. She heard him speak and another answer, but she couldn't understand either of them.
She knew not where she was nor why she was here, and her instincts had her going into survival mode. But something about this place was trying to calm her, to invite her in, asking her to relax, telling her it was safe. And so, she found her feet carrying her to the door. She unrolled her feathered cloak from her belt, draping it around her shoulders, for it was cold here, colder than the nights in the dunes, at least to her. She stepped inside, her long dark hair still disheveled, filled with the feathers and beads of her tribe, her huntress band painted deep crimson across her eyes.
She quickly recognized the place as some sort of... food gathering area. Her own people ate around fire and water only, and there was fire in a hearth across the way, but her people never ate within caves. That was how various predators discovered you and hunted you as you slept. But something in here smelled divine, and Letrixia moved over to an empty table close to the fire. She removed her cloak, wearing little more than a breastwrap and loin cloth, her skin covered in tattoos of many ferocious creatures. And as she absorbed the warmth of the fire, she watched and waited.