(Collab post incoming! Just know that both participants have NEVER done a collab post before. The perspective switches each paragraph as though they're responses.)
Silas & Talbot

The hot, dry sun climbed its way up from its sandy bed, lazily shying its hot rays onto Silas' face. The mountain that he was perched on was facing a vast expanse of sand, the infamously lethal Plegian Desert. He, along with the rest of the surviving Shepherds, found refuge here. The make-shift camp was arid and dry, and the incoming sun did nothing to alleivate these pains. For some, the stark contrast between mountainous forest and desert side-by-side would be breathtaking, and even beautiful. But with Silas' companions either asleep or dead silent, the only way to describe this place, for him, was pure, concentrated boredom. There was no gossip to overhear, no friends to speak to. Fatigue and depression claimed most, and even Silas found it difficult to keep spirits up. He let out an exasperated sigh, scratching his head and pulling his hand down over his eyes. They glazed over, dry and still as he looked out into the distance.
Like a small, quiet whimper, he muttered under his breath. "This place sucks."

It was always hot in this horrible, horrible place. Sweat made bodies sticky, made minds weary, and all the group did was sleep or try to remain still as possible. They searched for shade, but sadly, there was a limited amount of the sweet, cool refuge. The sun bore down on them without mercy, almost like it was laughing at their suffering. Talbot, usually a very and happy upbeat sorcerer, was already as grumpy as a male wyvern in heat. At any moment, he could snap and hiss and breathe fire at anyone! At least he had his lute. His lute, or what some would call an annoying piece of wood with strings coming down it, was as dear as life to him. Ever since he had joined the Shepherds, music had grown so close to him that it now ran in his blood. He could sing and play well, but he would never dance. Now that was too embarrassing. 
A low murmur came from across the camp, and he raised his eyes from his fingers, which were picking away at the strings. The lute let out a very high pitched tune, almost displaying the distress that Talbot was writhing under, if it actually had a voice. Silas, an archer, was complaining already. It couldn't possibly be nine in the morn, but at the same time, Talbot could not blame him. This day was hotter than the rest, and while Talbot did not wear his complete mage uniform, only bearing his undershirt and pants, sweat rolled off of his body as if he were some sort of rock that was getting in the way of a waterfall.
"Really, Silas, it doesn't suck that bad. Oh wait, it does." Talbot offered Silas a crooked smile. The sweat was rolling down his face, into his eyes and into the corners of his mouth. "Maybe I should sing a song..?"

Silas' eyes darted off to the side as his ears picked up sound. Immediately, his invisible shackles that tied him to this Naga forsaken rock broke free, and he turned to see Talbot with what seemed to be as forced a grin as one could bear to look at in this heat. He smiled back, happy that someone went out of their way to talk to him.
With a dry laugh, Silas stood up, immediately regretting taking in all of that dry air. He swatted the sweat off of his neck like one would swat a fly from their food, balancing himself off of the rock he had perched on. 
"As much as I'd appreciate a nice song, I think our friends are a little too tired for a listen." He dismissed, rolling his eyes towards their compatriots. 
"Now that I think about it, though, coming this high up the mountain was a poor idea anyway. There's more trees down there, and..." He trailed off, eyes darting to Talbot's face. "...You're sweating into your mouth. Gross." He let off another laugh, again regretting making that decision "Anyway, what do you say we do? There's absolutely [i]nothing[/i] to do on this rock, and everyone else is too tired to do anything."

Who was too tired to listen to a song? They weren't moving their bodies, or singing along. Would listening to a song make their brains sweat as well? Talbot sighed and put his precious musical instrument to the side, his eyes closing as he felt the sun's tormenting increase. It seemed that the sun had picked him as a particular victim, and was attacking his very dark hair with its rays. It was true that everyone looked tired- personally, Talbot thought it was a little dangerous for everyone to not have their complete suit of armor or battle equipment on. Bandits, or more dangerous villains could swoop down on them and finish them all off. Mere cloth could not protect blows from an axe or sword as well as a suit of steel on. 
When Silas commented on the sweat dribbling to his mouth, he opened his eyes and glanced at him. "As much as I wipe it away, more follows. The taste of my sweat is very salty, so it makes me thirstier!" he let out a low, angry, and frustrated whine. "The guy who went on his rounds said that he was going to get some water, and he even took my water pouch. Sure, it was filled with sand, but..." he sighed, his throat irritating him and making him feel more uncomfortable. "... I know there's nothing to do in this hell. Everyone seems like they're dying." he looked to the side at a young man who was stretched out and sleeping under a dried tree. Even he looked very uncomfortable. "Maybe we should go and look around? Make a little round of our own?" 

Silas' eyes widened as Talbot suggested leaving this deathly plane, if even for a moment. Quiet excitement quivered through him as he prepared himself to leave. Subtly moving one of his arms towards his back, he did a small inventory check. He talked aside to himself as he searched his things in an incredibly untactful manner. 
"Bow, check. Provisional snacks... Check. Arrows..." He found his quiver and shook it around. It made a comforting jostling sound as the arrows jumped around in the container. He smirked a little as he completed his check, and he draped the longer end of his scarf over his head like a sloppy turban. Silas grabbed Talbot's hand forcibly. Sticky and sweaty. Yech. 
Turning around and beginning a very energetic march, he looked back at his company.
"The answer's yes, by the way." He confirmed, with a pleased look in his eyes and a goofy smile. The sun was beating, the ground was blistering hot, his clothing stuck to his skin, and nary a living thing in sight, besides these lost souls. But none of that mattered. Silas finally had something to do.

---(Magical Timeskip wooahhh)---

Talbot moaned loudly, making some carrion birds that were perched on a nearby rock scatter in a flurry of feathers and "caw"s. He had placed his mage hat on his head, and that had helped protect his scalp from the unforgiving rays of the sun. Yet his head felt itchy and wet, and sweat still dribbled down into his face. Not to mention his satchel, which was doing a [i]glorious job[/i] at keeping him comfortable, was making his left shoulder ache. It was weighed down by around three tomes that he had taken with him: one of fire, one of wind, and one of thunder. These tomes only contained basic spells that would simply fend off some bandits. He didn't need the tomes that contained powerful spells, not yet, anyway. "I'm tired," he groaned, slumping a bit. "I think it was better if we would have stayed and played cards. I regret this." 
He smacked his lips as he struggled to wet his mouth, but his throat screamed with thirst. If he kept on like this, he would hardly be able to speak. "Silas, do you see any danger? Because I sure don't. All I see is... sand. Oceans of it. I mean, how could animals even live here?" he had seen the occassional fennec fox here and a snake there, but they were probably well suited for the desert. "You know what I can't wait for? When we actually go to an inn. Sleep in a real bed for once." his gaze became softer as he imagined rolling around in pleasure in a cotton sheeted mattress. "How about you?"

With an ungraceful slump into a nearby tree, Silas sighed. As much as he wanted to come down here, Talbot was right. Even though there were more trees, and consequently, more shade, the wind blew colder higher up, and their marching only dehydrated them further. His bow poked into his back, and he felt a bruise coming on, but that was the least of their troubles.
"Eh..." He audibly moaned, wiping the sweat off of his brow. "If we're talking about what I [i]really[/i] want..." He drew his bow from his back, partly to relieve him from some pain. He held it out, plucking the bow lightly. "...I could really go for some meat. Maybe raw. Then it'd have a lot of blood." Silas trailed off as he thought to himself, salivating as the word meat echoed gently in his head. "Blood's basically, water, right? That'd be great, right about now."
With a quick look back to his friend, he noted how strained his eyes were, and the sheer buckets of sweat the both of them were shedding. Putting his free hand over his mouth, he withdrew his bow as he lowered his eyes in apology. "I'm going to shut up about water now." His voice cracked at the end, and he grabbed at his throat with his hand in a futile attempt to soothe it.

At Silas' words, Talbot's stomach began to grumble. The Shepherds did their best at hunting and catching game, but all the prey they found were some of those scrawny foxes and crows. One brought down a vulture. That was the biggest meal he had had in a while. He, too, began to salivate as he imagined a great, thick, juicy, wet steak sitting on a platter. He was pretty sure that if someone decided to drop said steak in the middle of their camp, there would be a huge squabble as to who would take the first bite. Talbot meant to sigh, but it came out sounding like a very raspy wheeze. "Whose great idea was it to come to Plegia?!" he yelled, risking the pain in his dry throat to relieve some of his anger. "They're not exactly [i]friendly[/i], you know. It's not like they're going to say 'Well, hello there! Come to Plegia! We'll feed you and clothe you and water you Ylisseans! What's that? Oh, we don't care what happened in the past and what's happening now!'." he began to cough, keeling over as the bout continued. It didn't stop until his dry throat bled. Great. Just as he was about to curse, he heard a sound. A scream. A [i]womanly[/i] scream. "Hey... did you hear that?" he asked Silas, glancing over at the green haired fellow. "It's a woman."

With an abrupt, clumsy motion one could hardly call standing up, Silas cupped his hand over his ear. A shot of adrenaline cut through the dreadful mood as his ears perked. "Y-Yeah. Yeah, I hear it." Nervously, he moved around the tree, cupping his ears once more. "I hear cutting, too. Like... Like the sound of cutting wood."
Despite the nature of the situation, Silas smiled to himself. His ears never failed him, after all. While he composed himself, his thoughts dueled uncomfortably in his head. What was someone-- barring the Shepherds, of course-- doing in the middle of nowhere like this? He furrowed his brow as he gazed out to where the sounds were coming from. The two of them were weathered by the sun, and Silas was certain he'd pass out if he fired more than one arrow. It was tough enough to not want to just lay down and let the sand bury his thirst. 
He shook his head violently, as if to chase the thought away. 'No,' he thought to himself, shakily reaching for his bow. 'I'm a Shepherd. If danger threatens anyone, I'm to heed the call.'
With newfound resolve, he looked back to Talbot, reaching his hand out. The poor soul was groveling on the ground, shouting his grimaces at the heavens for a while, now. As much as the two of them needed a break, he offered him the hand anyway. "Are we going?" He asked rhetorically, giving Talbot one more smile. As though to preserve his throat, Talbot gave a silent nod, and took Silas' hand.
They made a light jog out of their search, fatigue burning almost all of their drive. Pressing onward, Silas eventually stopped, with Talbot close behind. Far ahead, a trail of dates made a short line around a tree. From their angle, the scene was mostly hidden-- All that could be seen was a sword and two figures, one of them being a lady laying on the ground. Farther off to the side, two more figures stood, claiming authority. Alarm shot up through Silas' spine, and he instinctively stretched his arm out, as though reaching out to the scene.
"H-hold on! What on earth is going on here?!"