He began lapping greedily at the water.

His dry mouth deserting its parched state and becoming overwhelmingly swamped with the cool ripples of water that returned with every fully loaded draw he took. Each swallow was one of heaven and he started to get heady with the air he desired, but had not yet succumbed to receive. His claws drove through the cracked packed up earth trying to gain some restraint, restraint that was in his mind necessary for the network of capillaries in his skin to function and his heart to return to a more natural rhythm. He continued to drink like a river continues to run, until like a river meeting the sea, he plunged into the water to revive his skin some. He drenched his lungs with the clean yet smouldering air above the bliss, that was, the abandoned pond.

The thick pink flesh of my arm, Crackles and creases, in the impaling heat of the fiery orange orb. It penetrates the thick wisps of air drifting through the sky, like a blade through cotton candy. One swipe is all it takes to reveal the steel drum that encases those wisps of pale pink candy strands.