The intense desert sun was miraculously held at bay at where Nymphaea Cookie currently was, under the broad fronds of a newly sprung date palm. A small, clear pool shimmered, reflecting the peaceful atmosphere. Nymphaea Cookie was stretched out comfortably on a woven mat right by the water’s edge, their large olive green backpack propped up as a makeshift pillow. They were currently absorbed in an ancient scroll, occasionally adjusting their glasses.

The faint plop of a Cheesebird tentatively testing the water was the only sound interrupting the calm.