#sandling

“ Starling, you home? " a voice calls through the open window in the kitchen, alerting her immediately as she rushes in.

" Sheldon? " she says, unsure it is him until she gets closer and recognises those all too familiar dark shades he’s wearing.

" Can I come in? " he asks, though nothing about his tone tells her that this is just a passing visit. Something sounds off.

" Of course you can, " she answers, drying her hands off on the towel after having washed all the dishes from breakfast.

Helene sets the towel back onto its little hook and walks over to the door, unbolting it and holding it wide open for him to enter the kitchen. She wasn’t going to ask him why he hopped the fence instead of using her front door because knowing the man as she did, he probably had a good enough reason.

" Can I get you a drink? Are you okay? " she asks, eyes set on the dark shades, bothered by the fact she can’t read him too well while they are covering his eyes, because that is usually where all of his emotions lie and are most readable.

" I’m fine.. but a drink would be good. You got that strong stuff I had last time? " he suggests, reaching a hand out as though he was going to collapse or stumble.

" I’d never toss it if I knew you might be back again, Shel, " she chuckles softly, feeling a sense of relief when he grins.

Helene was used to engaging in conversation with him when there was no barrier between them, so the sunglasses were very quickly becoming a bother. Biting her lip as she poured him a fairly generous glass of an aged tequila, she manages to ask him why he insists on wearing his shades indoors.

Sands takes the offered drink from her hands with a genuine smile and has a fairly large gulp of it before navigating around with his free hand for a moment to grip the tables edge. Given he was seated on a chair already without much trouble, she’s now beginning to wonder all the more what is going on.

" Sheldon? " is all she says, his name being the only question necessary in that moment to indicate she’s confused on top of feeling an overwhelming sense of concern.

Helene steps forward, coming away from the counter again, her own drink in her hand which was a simple glass of water given how she didn’t particularly want a hangover the next morning. Her brows furrow as she sits across from him, hand reaching out across the table to make a grab for his shades.

" I wouldn’t, Helene, " his voice stops her in her tracks before she can even start to slide them down his nose.

" Why not? " she asks, curiosity now piqued.

" ..trust me, " he offers, a slightly crooked smile given as he downs almost half the tequila with his next gulp. " I need a place to stay for a while. Would you be able to set me up? " his words silence her for a moment, but she soon nods.

" Yea, no problem.. but, Shel? What’s going on? " she insists on knowing far more information than he is willing to provide, but all her prying seems to do is cause irritation for him.

Sands finishing the remaining alcohol in his glass and stands from his chair, somehow completely stable on his feet even though it took him no more than 3 minutes tops to finish the drink she had given him. That, too, surprised her.

" Better to not ask questions you don’t want answers to, " the same old song he always sings leaves him, now irritating her as much as her questions had been bugging him.

Helene slams her hand down on the tabletop then, standing and coming around to where he is before reaching her hand up again, but this time with such speed that he can’t begin to stop her. Yanking down the shades away from his eyes, hers immediately widen in fear, the shock evident.

Looking at the damage, she wondered how long he had been walking around like that, hoping it wasn’t so recent that he’d decided to clean up any sign of it happening before actually making his way, somehow, to her house in one piece.

" Shel, what the fuck?! " she almost yells in her state of panic.

Sands grunts his response for now, bending and feeling for the dropped shades on the ground before placing them back where she snatched them from so the sight could no longer grace her with its presence.

" Another time, " he simply says, raising one hand as though to say he does not want to talk about it right now. " I’m tired. "

" Shel.. " she starts, only to silence what may come out of her mouth after that should it further annoy him. " I don’t know what happened, or why, but I’m sorry. "

" Yea, thanks, " he answers, no smartass smile following his short bursts of conversation anymore.

Helene notices the drop in both the atmosphere and his mood now she has discovered the secret he had tried to keep. There is a very crystal clear sign that she feels badly about pestering him, but she would rather know and help, than not.

" Come on, " she says, hand offered right in front of his own, which he senses immediately and so, grabs it with his gloved fingers so she is better able to direct him around the house. " I have a spare room and it’s only ever me here, so.. " she adds.

Sands follows her steps even as she holds onto his hand as a guide, his heightened sense of hearing allowing him to evade bumping into furniture or tripping on rugs as he listens to the sound of her footsteps in front of him.

" Helene? " he calls to her, softly, unsure.

" Yes, Shel? " she asks, stopping beside the bed of the spare room and waiting for him to finish, before she can help him map out the room before leaving him to sort himself out.

" Thank you— " he simply says, just a hint of those infamous smiles slipping through the broken cracks now.

Sands, while she is still holding onto his hand, keeps her close for a moment longer as his free hand raises and he finds her face. Though his palm is clad in leather, the gesture would be well received, because he knows those little things about her and was thankful that he did, especially now.

Questioner: What would win in a fight between a sandling and a chasmfiend?

Brandon Sanderson: Where are they?

Questioner: I don't know.

Brandon Sanderson: That matters a whole lot.

Questioner: That really does.

Image by Doug Curtis, © Kenzer and Co.

[I completely overlooked this monster when reading through the Hacklopedias the first time with an eye for creatures to convert. Somehow, I assumed it was the same as the sandman from classic D&D and PFRPG, but it’s a different beast entirely. ]

Sandling What appeared to be a large mound of sand leaps into action, revealing itself to be a gritty amorphous creature.

Sandlings are shifting, flowing things that are made of equal parts earth and flesh. They feed entirely on organic minerals. If they can get enough from scavenging, they will do so, but if not they become ambush predators. A sandling kill site is a grisly thing, as the monster systematically strips the flesh from its victims in order to consume the bones and teeth. Carrion feeders often follow in a sandling’s wake, but they must tread carefully or become the ooze’s next meal.

Sandlings form spontaneously from sand exposed to the rotting bodies of magical creatures, particularly dragons or outsiders. Most sandlings live in desert environments, but they can form on sandy beaches. These sandlings live especially precarious existences, as water causes them to clump and lose their ability to move freely. Coastal sandlings are often less hostile to humanoids or other large creatures, as they can get most of their food from mollusks and other shellfish exposed at low tide.