Let me tell you that one of the nicest points of existing as a camel in the desert is that sand is soft and squishy between the toes and it often covers any pointed debitage left around monuments and the like. It is important to not have cuts on the soles, especially if the preference is to flavour thrush with gremolata, because Milanese restaurants are few and far between here, meaning long treks in order to satisfy taste buds. Mirages exist out here for sure, but there is no need to worry about illusions when one is packing humps of reserves; dreams of being deracinated to Antarctica are the true terror of the desert mind games, truth be told, as camel toes are not made for gelid snows. Really, the only ways one might improve this world into a never-neverland, camel-wise, would be to perhaps add some rainbow-colour to the sand grains as beige is fine for fur but everywhere else just feels grrr and, also, place more eateries serving varieties of sauces along caravan routes as camels do enjoy spicy variety in their life every now and then. ; )
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