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(Back to Miryam)
The skin of the desert lifted. It did not burst. It rose like a slow breath and became a small dome. The mesh flexed and held. Sand slid off it in a thin sheet. The tunnel below pressed again and the dome rose a hand higher. A pale ear poked up first. Then a small gold head with bright eyes.
The scouts did not shout. They pulled as if tightening a belt. The ring climbed around the dome and locked. The second net slid over the first. The third settled like a shawl. The pegs bit. The lines went tight.
Miryam felt it before she saw it. The tunnel nose bumped a soft wall. The soft wall moved and had teeth. She was pushed back a little. The air broke into little ripples. Friend dug claws into her shoulder and pressed its face against her neck.
