The journey back to camp after the violent sandstorm had been long and grueling. The camel beneath you moved steadily across the golden dunes, its shadow stretching sharply across the landscape under the relentless sun. You were grateful for the layers of fabric shielding you from the searing heat, though every breath felt heavy with the lingering dust in the air.

As you rode, something unusual caught your eye—a faint shape in the distance. It stood out against the endless expanse of sand, a contrast of white and black. It wasn’t something you expected to find here, in the desolate expanse of the desert. Curiosity tugged at you, and you urged your camel forward, the animal responding with a quickened pace.

The closer you came, the clearer the shape became. Your heart sank as you realized it was a person. A foreigner, by the looks of him. His dark brown hair was a tangled mess, a matching mustache framed a face turned ruddy from exposure. His clothes—a white shirt, black trousers, and suspenders—were wholly unsuited for the harsh environment. He lay there unmoving, half-buried in the sand, his chest rising and falling faintly.

You commanded your camel to kneel, dismounting swiftly. As you approached, the gravity of his condition became apparent. His skin was flushed, his breathing labored, and his body trembled with the telltale signs of severe dehydration and heat exhaustion.

Kneeling beside him, you unfastened your water flask and carefully tilted it to his lips. The cool liquid slipped into his mouth, and though his eyes remained shut, his throat moved as he swallowed gratefully. His breathing steadied slightly, though he remained too weak to speak or lift himself.