The wind moaned around the unusually dank cavern. It's wailings in time to the soft weeping of the water held by the stone cage. Rivulets wove solemnly into and out of view.

Or at least they would have had the caves occupant been observing. As it was she and her rotund body were preoccupied with stranger matters. Half crouched, half sprawled, she peered into the pool, barely below the mountanous crag of her nose. Into the mercurial water, that broke the peace of the space with it's silent thrashings, she peered.

To any normal woman, even one of such stature, the chaos percieved would be indecipherable. But for her it was bliss to see the contours of her place ever changing, with meaning fathomable only to her. It was precious, this water, so scarce in the desert. And all of it her's. Her's to drink. Her's to watch, with her moist bulbous eyes that missed none of the steps in her private dance.

The water of the pool was that lost to the desert. The life giving fluid stolen away by sun then wind. Especially by wind. The moist rocks were the stash of the thieving deasert wind. A place to keep safe the treasure begotten by her art. The weavings of the desert breeze.

So she had lived, for longer than she could remember, and intended to live, for as long as fate and chance permitted. A lonely life, for certain. Although, not without it's perks. The waters from the life within the desert were as sustaining as food and abundent enough to live comfortably off of. They also brought with them the fragments of their existance. Memories, emotions and journeys, the staple of the cave bound woman's sanity. Without the mundane tribulations of the assorted travellers her sense would surely have left her.

Today, however, the waters were unusually uniform. Some event had tainted the supply of her sustenance. She could barely drink it for all the sorrow it now held. The whole thing reeked of rudeness. Really, how dare some water filled sack of flesh be so woeful as to override the variety deserving of her skillful theivery's rewards. Even more irritating was her lack of success so far in identifying the source of this outrage.

And so she peered into the mourning water and searched. And searched. And searched still more. And yet, to no avail. Whole heartedly sighing she gave up, to have a nap and let the whole issue, blow over.