The lonely traveler trudged up the side of the mountain, stumbling
with weariness.  He used a grimy cloth to mop at the sweat, sand and grit
that coated his face.  There was no shade or shelter as far as the eye
could see, just sun-blasted sand and rock.

        He heaved a deep sigh and shifted his pack across his shoulders,
then started climbing again, bent nearly double under the weight.  The heat
suddenly became more intense, and he looked up to see that he was walking
right into a burning bush.

        "Wha-?" he muttered, confused.  Flames lapped at the bush, but it
didn't wither, didn't crackle and pop under the stress, didn't show any
signs of being consumed by the fire.  In spite of the oppressive heat, a
cold shudder traveled down his spine.

        GO, said a mighty voice.  SPEAK FOR MY PEOPLE AND LEAD THEM OUT OF
THIS LAND.

        "With my direction sense?" Ryoga yelped.  "We'd end up going around
in circles for years!"


^_^

Cindy

Great, just great.  I've written another story that totally disregards the
space-time continuum.  Shunsuke, this is all your fault!  ^_~ If you hadn't
started with that "What if Ryoga were Jewish?" line of thought, this never
would have happened!


Yoiko's Fanifcs: "http://www.geocities.com/Tokyo/Towers/7183/yoikofics.html"