AION
The day had already turned, fatigue clinging to his hooves and dragging them down. They dragged as he walked, toe scuffs connecting his steps from one to the other as two parallel lines skating across the sand in unison. It no longer bothered him, the heat of the ground: he had become numb to it, ignoring the warmth pressed against the soft frogs of his feet as though it were a new part of him, a burdensome accompaniment he would have to learn to endure. Still the canyon continued to expand before him, stretching as far as his eyes could see in a seemingly endless labyrinth determined to trap him and keep him as far from his partner as possible. He was truly beginning to regret entering it in the first place—why would Eros, after all? Surely he wouldn’t find his mate down here—but it seemed such a waste to retrace his steps when he had already made it this far. And he had already come so far into the canyon despite this area’s blasting heat, he was determined to not let all this work be for nothing.
To get through it, his thoughts had turned to the beach, imagining the desert as though it were one singular expanse that would end in cool waves lapping at his fetlocks. Images of Eros racing through the water spurred him on, convincing him his mate would be just around the next corner, hiding in the mirage he had convinced himself was the ocean. But unlike the ocean, it did not return as the waves rolled through their rhythms, it only pulled, pulled, pulled, drawing him farther into the desert, chasing it. He told himself he would make it—but the desert had other plans for him.
It was only as the stars began to peek through that he stopped, the mirage gone as the heat also began to dissipate, though only slightly. It was still stifling, but he breathed easier now that there was some relief. Short as it lasted, that was, for his comfort reminded him only how thirsty he was, and how little water he had found between the narrow walls of his prison.
Maybe he would die here, and Eros would never know. Would never find him. The vultures would pick him clean long before his remains would be found and identified in this world of strangers.
He couldn’t help but let these morbid thoughts consume him, despair wracking his body, constricting his throat in a painful embrace. ’Eros would never know.’ Desperation turned his gaze upwards, seeking that familiar bright star which led him north. He had heeded his uncle’s words well, following that star for several days in a bid to find somewhere he might find Eros. When in doubt, it was the stars he followed, north always his direction of choice. And yet it had failed him; leading him only to this wasteland of a desert, the one place he never wanted to be. No sign of another equine in sight--let alone his mate.
The sudden crack of a hoof against stone rang through the canyon, reverberating off of the walls and making it impossible to tell from which direction it came from. Aion’s ears snapped back into his feathers, lip curling menacingly as his eyes flashed all around. "Who goes there?” he demanded, all of his frustration and despair filling his tone. "Show yourself!"
wowwww excuse this rambling mess @Torstein !
talk.
To get through it, his thoughts had turned to the beach, imagining the desert as though it were one singular expanse that would end in cool waves lapping at his fetlocks. Images of Eros racing through the water spurred him on, convincing him his mate would be just around the next corner, hiding in the mirage he had convinced himself was the ocean. But unlike the ocean, it did not return as the waves rolled through their rhythms, it only pulled, pulled, pulled, drawing him farther into the desert, chasing it. He told himself he would make it—but the desert had other plans for him.
It was only as the stars began to peek through that he stopped, the mirage gone as the heat also began to dissipate, though only slightly. It was still stifling, but he breathed easier now that there was some relief. Short as it lasted, that was, for his comfort reminded him only how thirsty he was, and how little water he had found between the narrow walls of his prison.
Maybe he would die here, and Eros would never know. Would never find him. The vultures would pick him clean long before his remains would be found and identified in this world of strangers.
He couldn’t help but let these morbid thoughts consume him, despair wracking his body, constricting his throat in a painful embrace. ’Eros would never know.’ Desperation turned his gaze upwards, seeking that familiar bright star which led him north. He had heeded his uncle’s words well, following that star for several days in a bid to find somewhere he might find Eros. When in doubt, it was the stars he followed, north always his direction of choice. And yet it had failed him; leading him only to this wasteland of a desert, the one place he never wanted to be. No sign of another equine in sight--let alone his mate.
The sudden crack of a hoof against stone rang through the canyon, reverberating off of the walls and making it impossible to tell from which direction it came from. Aion’s ears snapped back into his feathers, lip curling menacingly as his eyes flashed all around. "Who goes there?” he demanded, all of his frustration and despair filling his tone. "Show yourself!"
wowwww excuse this rambling mess @Torstein !
talk.
