A tale of the Vrehalija part 2

The Operculum undulated close by; coming to wakefulness in the dusk light.  It's shell was only lightly loaded with packs and bundled nets, travel would be easy.  The snails foot moved near constantly, rippling a thousand tiny steps over the cooling sand.  Ooshinahope hand named the Operculum his ship but it was in truth a living beast with it's own will.  From the netting Ooshinahope drew a vial of persimmon wine and poured into a fine leaded flute glass.  He sat long moments knees bent blow his body waiting for an approaching moment of perfection.  A second before glass was cool with night air and a second after it was too warm.  A simple ritual to welcome the evening the lone man kept when there was a chill at night.

Day silks traded for leathers gentile implements traded for a wild bladed lance.  Ooshinahope loosed the lighted bugs which guided burning bright.  They picked up on the parasites of the Operculum for supper and swarmed above as it went.  This was the Vrehalija's path through the sandsea, ever traveling to the east.