"Charles panicked and, without thinking, followed at his dog's heels."
Tristan had that serious look that is very appropriate for this type of story.
"He ran ; he ran for breath. He stumbled and fell, the sand sinking beneath his feet. Suddenly a despicable scream pierced the night. Charles recognised it as the howl of an animal. He recognises his dog. He perceives all the terror expressed in this never-ending death rattle. He looks up, the moon is veiled and the howl is fading. He hurried to a gloomy part of the dune. Fear wets his shirt but something pushes him towards horror. His progress becomes more and more difficult : the sand seems to seep into his clothes. With a final burst of lucidity, he realises that the sand is devouring him, enveloping him, imprisoning him. His last reflex is to scream, as if hoping to escape the horror that is slyly invading him. An agonising, primal scream, but cut short by the sand that has just entered his mouth...

Difficulty ***