The Glass Desert reflected the glory of the nighttime sky. Countless shards of obsidian - each one formed then shattered in some ancient catastrophe - shone with the light of the stars. Amongst the fragments of glass, a band of hunters moved quietly. They made their way through the debris, avoiding the sharp edges and jagged splinters.

"Can you see it?" Mol was the eldest of the group, and had therefore taken the leadership of the party, as was the custom of her tribe.

Ban shielded his eyes and strained to see what lay ahead of them in the maze of glass. "No," the young hunter said. "But I can hear it."

The hunters fell silent, letting their hearing adjust. The distinctive 'tick-tick-tick' of chitin on glass could just be made out. Mol cocked her head on one side, the better to listen with a critical ear. "It sounds uneven. We must have wounded it when we last met. Spread out. Find it. Strike."

They did as they were told: each hunter taking their own path through the black glass towards the source of the sound. There was no noise, no communication until Mol gave the word.

"Kill!"

A half-dozen hunters moved as one to attack their prey, a giant scorpion. Glass-tipped spears and sharp-edged blades sought out the weak points in its carapace, slicing and cutting at the flesh beneath. Within minutes, the huge arthropod was dead and its still-twitching corpse was being butchered.

Mol was satisfied. "A good hunt," she declared, then looked to the eastern sky. A band of colour had appeared on the horizon, heralding the coming sunrise. "Take what meat you can and leave. We must be home soon."

The hunters obeyed, gathering up what they could carry and leaving the remains of the scorpion for whatever scavengers might come later. Then the hunters vanished into the dwindling night.

The Glass Desert reflected the glory of the daytime sky. Countless shards of obsidian - each one formed then shattered in some ancient catastrophe - shone with the glare of the sun. Nothing moved in the intense heat except for the corpse of the scorpion, which slowly withered and curled in on itself.