He jumped to the sand. It seemed as if his skin turned red in anger. He had gone berserk! He smashed moles in fury like punching bags. As he was running out of stamina, he rushed and climbed another cliff. He shook away moles that were hanging from his limbs, kicked some of them downhill, and crushed the others with his feet. He looked at me and pointed down. I jumped to the dunes.

Despite having dozens of moles approaching ahead of me, more moles emerged from the sand behind me; blocking my way back to the cliff. I was partially bleeding from my injuries. At least the scent of my flesh is a good decoy to attract and annihilate more of them than Arnold, who still looked in optimal conditions. I allowed them to get closer to me, I close my eyes and focused on their high pitch chant of war and the trembling vibrations they make on the ground as they drill their way.

I open my eyes, and like a connect-the-dots children worksheet, the path of least resistance was traced before my eyes to follow. I trace the line with my footsteps, and connect the dots with ink of blood sprayed from the death of my enemies in my own flesh. This wave was exterminated efficiently; however, the next wave emerged right away.

I close my eyes, I feel weak, I open my eyes, but this time I couldn't see a path traced. A mole is right in front of me! I turn around to escape, and noticed a cliff that was shinning; however, it was quite far, further than other cliffs. I followed my, "instincts". I turned back to see the mole ready to land a bite, and just before he chops my head off, I perform a jumping front kick and continue spinning backwards; landing on the cliff that was shinning. Right after I landed, 2 GIANT moles appeared next to the cliffs that my "instincts" prevented me from running to. Could it be that I felt their vibrations on the ground and this cliff was illuminated to me as a safe-spot?

There was a palm with dates and an oasis on this cliff. I loaded my cheeks with the fruits, gulped water to hydrate myself and swallow the fruits faster than I could chew them, and soaked my injuries in the fresh oasis to clean them from the burning sand. Arnold ran downhill, I jumped from cliff to cliff approaching his position and luring the big moles to the center of the battlefield with a trail of blood drops sliding from my body.

I landed next to Arnold, "You recover quickly!" - He complimented me. Arnold was able to 1-hit kill careless moles, and I performed graciously an assassin's sword dance. We felt an earthquake as the 2 mole-bosses approached at whole speed. "Oh, sh!t!" - they were actually bigger than they seemed from afar.

"Kroah!!" - look who is here! Birdy and a camel joined us in this last attempt. Arnold and I rode our trusty pals. Dozens of moles kept emerging. "Let's get out of here, it's not worth it" - yelled Arnold.

"Run to the nearest cliff, I have an idea."
"You're crazy!" - yelled Arnold, and galloped on his camel to the nearest cliff.

Moles quickly followed Arnold. I held firmly my hunter's knife and injured my own arm; blood sprayed on the sand. I dampen my t-shirt with it and threw it at the moles following Arnold to lure them to me. The moles teared the soaked t-shirt to bits and pieces that they devoured. They wondered where was the source of this thirst quenching refreshment. They saw my fresh blood dripping on the burning sand. Such was the heat in the desert that it evaporated instantly my blood; provoking a putrefying and disgusting aroma. The sweat, the blood, and the heat frying them together…