By midday, the first signs of trouble appeared. Dark clouds gathered in the west, directly over the mountains. They weren't rain clouds – nothing so kind in this place. They were the color of bruises, swirling with unnatural energy.
"Storm's coming," Regina said, checking her interface. "A big one."
"Can we reach the mountains before it hits?" Jolly asked, shielding her eyes to look ahead.
"Maybe," Regina replied. "But we'd be caught on the slopes when it arrives. Not ideal."
Vell considered their options. Pushing forward meant facing the storm head-on. Waiting meant delay, and every day spent in the desert drained their resources. Neither choice was good.
"We push on," he decided. "If the storm gets too bad, we find shelter and wait it out."