Lost in the Sand

At first, the sands, the wind, and the yelling had shocked her out of a sleepy state. Shalia sprung into action as the desert dust blew through the area relentlessly and whipped the tent flaps around. With a hand covering her eyes to block the dust slipping in, the witch lifted an arm up into the air and a half-dome shape of ice formed from the ground like a shield, covering enough of the interior that it blocked out biting winds and burning sand.
Shalia turned her back as she kept the casting going with both hands, allowing her to briefly take note of everyone in the tent.

Everyone but Islana.

She could only hope the woman and her bird had made it into one of the tents before the storm hit. She would investigate after everything passed. Right now, there was no thought in her mind except to protect the Aghul and herself. Like she always did by default.
Shalia had held the shield up for a while, too, before she couldn't hold it anymore and it began to crack. Incoming earth and force continued to breach the tent.
Yet, it continued to rage as if unchanging...

---

The storm roared for three days and three nights. They were all stuck inside their tents with what little food and water remained from the first night of camp with no breaks in the powerful gusts.
When it finally passed after what felt like an eternity, Shalia was made aware something was terribly wrong. Not only was Islana still missing with no trace left behind and three days lost of potential search, but the Ozainae and their priests were all in a state of mourning. When she had safely stepped out from the tent to observe the windswept area, she spotted Amastan kneeling down in the sand in what looked to be prayer and Agizul weeping into his hands among some gloomy others that had been with them.
In confusion, in her tense state, she approached them cautiously. When they gave her their reasoning, she blinked in shock, in disbelief.

The priests felt that Sister Locust had died.