65th of Summer, 510 A.V.
Hirem found himself looking up once more to the horizon, found his gaze once more tracing the lovely trees and plants that dotted the landscape, a strike of bold color upon the drab desert sands. He sighed, and let his head fall down to the ground, his sandals creasing over the sand swiftly as he made his way along the camp perimeter. He had been selected to patrol around the caravan in case any bandits got any bright ideas or another poor lost soul needed aid from the caravan master, and Raziel had wanted to come along and do a great service to his travelling companions, which in turn meant that Ari'Yahal was also accompanying them. The caravan master had lamented the waste of a good worker going into a patrol, but he acquiesed immediately.
It was only once they got a good way from the camp that they had seen the trees on the horizon, far off from their circular run of the campground. Hirem was all too happy to watch the trees though, as he knew what this red dash of vegetation on the desert floor was, or at least, he surmised that he did. The Keerdash Grove, the sanctuary of the Tatsuwaat Chaktawe. He had never heard much about the Chaktawe or the grove compared to other places in the desert, but he knew that the grove was best avoided than traversed. The Tatsuwaat were supposed to be protect, but other stories claimed they were simple artisans that dwelled within the tranquil shade of the trees, and that other, more powerful beings protected the place, ones that eluded explanation or definition.
Whatever the case, Hirem took to heart those warnings, and that was why he stayed the course in his path instead of venturing over to the grove. He craned his neck to look behind him, and observed Raziel and Ari'Yahal walking behind him, the boy apparently having a grand time in this exploration of the desert, keeping his gaze alert for the possible sight of bandits. Hirem doubted there would be bandits here, though. They tended to be a superstitous lot, and the Keerdash Grove was a good repelling agent as any other ancient, spirit infested location. In hindsight, perhaps the caravan master had known that, and plotted their course as such. He did seem to know many landmarks in this vast place, landmarks that Hirem could just begin to recognize, let alone remember, and the Keerdash Groves were very memorable.
He caught a look with Ari'Yahal and motioned for her to walk beside him. He was having the creeping sensation that someone was watching them, and stories of the Chaktawe once again floated through his mind. The Tatsuwaat weren't known for violence, but other tribes were, and they proved to be very territorial. If the Tatsuwaat were here, they definitely wouldn't like three Benshirans straying this close to their sacred ground. He wanted to discuss matters with Ari'Yahal first before getting too cautious.
As she approached, he whispered in a tone that Raziel would not hear, "Do you think Chaktawe are in the grove at this time of year? This place is supposed to be hallowed to them, and I think we should hurry if they are here." He didn't think that Raziel needed to be bothered with his suspicions and doubts when he was having fun, and he wouldn't even notice their course altered until they were back at camp, safe and sound.