Dust Devil

"Ah... man, I'm parched."
A small, medium-pitched voice called out to no one in particular. A Cubone was slowly walking along, head hung and the bone she constantly carried slung over her shoulder. Beads of sweat were rolling down her face, and she looked utterly exhausted. Her tongue lolled out slightly, swaying slightly as she waddled along. Eyes trained on the sand, which felt like constant fire on the pads of her feet, she let out a soft, bitter sigh.