Some might well have thought the same of the frozen wasteland from which Julius hailed; that vast ocean of gold was a treacherous snare, burying without a single tear all those unworthy of setting foot upon it. Yet the man in the white coat, though brought low, was not one to bow. He clung to that slender thread of hope — the sly glimmer in the vixen’s gaze — to the one who was both his captor and his chosen guide.

He did not let her out of his grasp, not for an instant. His muzzle pressed against the thigh of the desert woman, as if to anchor her to the earth, to ensure she would not vanish with the next stride, the next gust — to stop her from dissolving into the desert wind. And should she attempt to flee, his jaws would snap shut on her flesh like a razor trap. She led — and he, too, followed.

But here, he was no more than prey, and the golden entity would not let him forget it. A gust of wind — a whim of the shrouded creature — and the ground gave way beneath him. The sand retreated before him, revealing its cruel deception: a yawning crater, freshly exposed beneath its golden veil.

She had barely turned her head when she saw a mountain collapse beneath the desert’s fickle will. Disoriented — by fatigue, by fear — with the shifting sands unsteady beneath his broad white paws, Julius was being drawn downward. There was but one recourse left if he was not to be devoured: cling to life, to hope — to the thigh of the desert nymph. Two jaws closed upon her leg, sharp as the frost atop the world’s highest peaks.

A growl, a glance filled with panic. The desert would not allow its beloved daughter to fall with the mountain of ice — and so he would hold on, even if it meant dragging her down with him. Behind him, beneath his limbs, the void — a golden chasm, gaping wide, eager to consume him. Ahead, he strained to climb, his weight borne by aching shoulders, claws scrabbling for purchase — but the sand yielded, ever slipping through his grip. All that remained was her — his final anchor, unwilling though she was — into whom he had sunk his fangs, growling like a wounded beast...