Salvation came in the form of strawberry milkshake.

Hours compiled into what had become a tedious journey, seemingly no closer to our goal than when we had first set out, Lumen's patience had worn to a close. Bitching and moaning, whining with every breath he had taken, the boy had eventually thrown himself onto the powdered ground, weeping tears of anguish, shouts of frustration bubbling past his cracked, parched lips.

It was whilst I stood at an internal dilemma, conflicted between scolding him or comforting, that everything changed. Not slowly. Not subtlety, but all at once.

The tart air, pungent and acidic, halted its attack, wind ceasing and the relentless,...