The beasts that saw it called it paradise. The creatures that lived there called it 'Avaplace. Short for 'have a place'. It was the only oasis in the middle of the great southern desert and sat on the most direct route through or around it. 'Avaplace was a place for many things. It was a place to rest and drink before carrying on a long journey. It was a place to resupply empty haversacks. But mostly, it was a place of peace, surrounded by green, where travelers could forget the harsh environment they were in the middle of. A place of complete tranquility that soothed the body and the mind. When you saw it, you would know that all was right in the world. It was a wondrous, magical place, and existed only in the sunbaked mind of the hare. He was a creature attacked, robbed and left to die in the desert. With no water, no food and no shade, he stumbled on, delirious and rambling about food and fresh water. Mostly fresh water.
The desert is a cruel mistress. The heat, wind, and blowing sand play tricks on the mind. One sees water in the distance, huge shining lakes of it. When you walk towards it, it recedes, never getting closer. It is enough to drive one mad. That is what happened to the hare. He had seen the water, and walked towards it. Step after trudging step. Wading up the steep dunes and falling down the other side more often than not. Time was running out and death was near for the unlucky hare. But still he persevered. The mind said it saw water, so the water must be there. The body agreed and walked in the direction the mind said, but the body was so thirsty and hot. It wanted to lie down and never get up again.
Pace, pace, pace, fall. Pace, fall. Crawl. Onward, with the last reserves of strength almost gone. Water - so near and yet so far. Night has arrived. So very cold. What's this? Stone, not the shifting, cloying sand. Here's the edge. Uh Oh. Falling. Down, down, it seems like an eternity. Cold still, but wet. Wet? Blackness.....
He woke up in a shallow muddy pool of water in the shadow of the short rock cliff. Fed by an underground spring it trickled the life-giving substance into the killer desert. The meager pool held enough water to slake the greatest of the parched hare's thirst. The plants next to the water were edible, but far from tasty. They were enough. It took four days to regain his strength enough to travel. He could see the line of hills that were a day's walk away. On the other side of the hills is the forest and home. Before he left, the plucky hare built a pile of rocks to mark the water for future travelers through the desert. He also enlarged the water hole so more of the life-giving fluid would collect. The hare also took a sharp shard of rock and scratched a single word on the cliff. It was not an oasis, but it would have to do. Everything had its place. With a happy heart, the hare set off for the hills. The hills and home.
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