The winds of another desert storm whispered in the man's ears as he settled in for the long night. His tent was nestled into the sand like it had been there for decades. In reality, he had set it up a few minutes ago. He sat upon a small, dirty carpet while a mutt he'd taken in rested next to him. He watched the rise and fall of the creature's chest. A sense of peace settled over the man's aching body, juxtaposed by the frown permanently etched into his face, as he laid down.

He had been searching so long for safety that he had forgotten what it looked like. When he found it, if he found it, would he know the peace he felt right now? The creature next to him had no goal. In the morning, it would want food, and so would the man. They would search and likely find it. They always did. Then they would walk and walk and walk until nightfall, when they would again set up their tent.

The mutt let out a long sigh. His feet began to twitch, dreams of catching a fox or rabbit likely playing on repeat in his head. Perhaps the man and the mutt were not so different, he thought.

Still, there had to be something else out there. People, somewhere, that he could finally connect with. The mutt was a source of connection, but it wasn't a person. It couldn't think or act like another human. It loved, it felt, but that was not the type of connection the man was looking for, and deep down, he was beginning to wonder if he'd ever find it.

Morning came again, and the man and mutt searched for food.