A vague thread of milky scarlet carressed the eastern horizon, the sun still shyly lingering behind the accumulation of sand and miscellaneous debris- a dune, the desert's mountain. A tender breeze sang, kissing the sandy hills to force their shells to ance, making their exteror visage appear organic by the thin veil of sand whisping over their summits.
Nature had unleashed a feral tempest the night fallen behind, and its aftermath was conspicuous in promiscuously-scattered culminations of water resting in between the boughs of risen sand. But not only that- the camelthorns radiated and glimmered with the dew that ornamented them all around, morphing them into crystalline wonders. Although for now, this astounding show of light was obscure, for the sunshine was putting itself to no haste to drag its mass higher into the heavens.
But the vast star was nevertheless making progress. By now, precisely a quarter of an orb of brilliant red tickled the dunes that framed it pink, and the sky that cropped away from it a deep, abyssal navy. A small herd of impala dotted the bank of one of the various pools of water, lapping up the cool, sweet liquid. Nearby there was a bat-eared fox, juvenile most reasonably, observing the antelope with inquiring eyes. The fox soon enough lost interest and departed.
As the sun continued to prowl higher, yet even morelife was aroused. Yellow devil's-thorn flowers, heavy with rainwater, began to reveal their smiling faces to stand atall with a proud yet modest vogue. The authenticity of this new dwn began to conduct birdsong.
Oh, what was that? That tan head, peeping out over the various sourgrass stalks?
There she was. From a yawning hole in the ground, a narrow muzzle first poked out cautiously before an entire head, then a full body proceded to emerge. It was a suricate, female at that, greeting this newborn dawn. Hr coat as puffed out, welcoming any oncming heat after the frigid night that would soon be forgotten. At least she'd had the warmth of her beloved family to keep her fervent with both comfort and love.
The meerkat swiveled her head to and fro as she stood on her thin rear legs, long tail held gainst the ground behind her for assistence in balance. She devoured her surroundings, aware that the desert could unfold any precarious aggressor at any heartbeat. She was not one to befall to sloth's temptation when it came to her duty of protecting her family still in slumber below ground. But all was serene, so she relaxed on her haunches to breathe in all the pulchritidinous spectors this semi-arid land offered. She watched the vivid, green grass sawy gently in the breeze, but only slightly, much to the meerkat's relief. Naturally, a meerkat's horror was wind combined with tall grass, for a moving predator would be easily obscured. But, it was perfect. The grass was not of an unbearable height, and the wind was so dainty it only barely existed.
She focused her brown gaze on a different scene: A pair of young plubers bickering over something too distanced for the female to see accurately, but assumed she did that it was an insect of some form that both had the intent of making a meal- without the desire to share.
Murmurs began to thicken inside of the burrow she had risen from; the mob was awakening. It was her gang, actually: This foot-tall miniscule was the female sovereign. Within a fe minutes, head after head popped out of the den's numerous holes that speckled the area, joining their queen to greet the new sunrise. Two punypups clammered out of the burrow, tumbling over to stop at the dominant female, their widowed mother. Their father had faced death only the prior night to a war over a territorial abode. But despite his death, his mate lead the gang to a prevailing victory, forcing their nemesis into a debacle. He had not died in vain.
But it did leave the female without a partner. Nevertheless although, she was not wallowing in her misfortunate loss- she was resilient, strong as the winds that occasionally battered this desert, and soon enough, she'd set all back on track. Her mob, like the sun that warmed her, would live on.
It was another picturesque morning in the Kalahari.