The blazing yellow sun beat down on the bronze, dust-blanketed grass awaiting to be trampled by the tiny paws of a harvest mouse scurrying from the much larger paws of its merciless predator, the fox. But, the paws did not come, only the dry, rough wind that had swept through like clockwork for that past month, leaving a thick layer of dust atop the previous layer from the day before. Insects climbed on the few naked blades of grass that escaped their assigned layer of dirt, reaching the tallest point of the blade in search of fresh air. After what seemed like hours but was only a moment, the sad, slow steps of the mouse came. He had thin, matted fur that came off without a struggle when caught on a clover burr and a slender, tired body. The mouse came across a single sunflower seed, at least three days old with a large chunk missing out of the side, buried almost out of sight, and marveled at its newfound prize. He hesitated a moment, shallowly breathing before shoving the seed in his mouth, chewing slowly, reveling in his culmination. A minute later, a fox and her two kits came, the mother carrying one in her mouth and the other slowly creeping along the hot sand behind her. The mother fox was slow-moving with ribs protruding, and her pups were half the expected size with bones on display to the brutal sun above. Spotting the mouse, the mother fox froze so as not to scare him away, for he was the only natural food she had found in four days. The sun seared her eyes, causing them to water as she observed the emaciated mouse. She stood a moment before deciding he would be enough to keep her young going for at least one day more.

The mother fox slowly crept toward the mouse, her paws making apple-sized tracks, with a chevron-shaped pad on the heel of the track, in the thick layer of dust. The mouse's ears perked up, listening to the light, gentle steps behind him, awaiting the right moment to turn and face his stalker. Hesitantly, the mouse turned to face the predator lurking behind. The mother tensed her body, tightening her muscles and slowing her breathing in preparation for her attack. The fox sprung to life and stomped the mouse down. She pinned him against the dust and what remained of a dried-up dead cornstalk. For half a moment, the fox looked mournfully at the mouse, for she knew that he was also trying to survive the barren hellscape. Alas, she put the mouse out of his misery and scooped him up in her panting mouth. She turned to show her kits her spoil, who were ecstatic, for they had only eaten small insects and dusty seeds for the past four days. Normally they would feast on fat rabbits their mother brought back to their den, but the dust had swallowed it, leaving them with no home; an attempt at digging a new one would result in the discovery that the land was much too dry and hard. The mother fox dropped the limp body of the mouse on the ground in front of her young, that were waiting with hopeful, excited eyes. Hesitantly, the pups approached it, awaiting permission from their mother; she sat and nudged the prey toward her kits. With her permission, the pups became ravenous, tearing apart the mouse in search of what little meat remained on its frail body. The mother fox sat by, suppressing her famine. 

As the hours passed, the mother fox's strength slowly depleted, her eyes becoming sunken and glassy. She sat and watched as her pups wrestled in a small patch of grass sprinkled with the dirt from yesterday's storm and worried about where they would go next in search of food. As she lay in worry, the wind began to blow to a soft breeze, and the land became eerily calm; the pups continued their play as a colony of ants continued the construction of their new home, taking advantage of the brief pause in the wind, slowly digging their way down into the sand and building up their protective mound. When the pups had concluded their horseplay, they worked their way over to their mother, taking heavy, exhausted steps. Upon reaching her, they hesitated, for she did not look right; there was no rising or falling of her stomach; she lay still as the ants crawled on her, covering her body in black specs. The largest pup reluctantly made his way over to his mother, sniffing her still body, searching for any sign of life. He was unsuccessful. The pups lay in front of their mother, protecting her as the wind began to blow, bringing in enormous, black clouds. The ants hastily retreated to their underground tunnels, fleeing for their lives in an unnaturally orderly fashion, and the dust swelled.