This damn magic had gotten him lost.

The stallion huffed and puffed and would have blown all the houses down if there had been anything other than sand around him. An annoyed groan and a petulant whine mixed together to fall from his lips in a pitiful clump of self pity as he dragged his heavy hooves over yet another dune, his only reprieve from the setting sun being the whipping wind. While it helped cool him, it also flung sand into places he didn't even know existed on his body. 

Yes, by the time Camdis had made it to the peak of another dune, the relic magic yanking him along without so much as a moments care for his discomfort, the stallion had sand scraping his buttcrack, chafing at the joints where his front legs met his shoulders, burying itself in his hair, his ears, his mouth. Another groan rose from his belly and vibrated in his chest, but he did not part his lips for fear of eating more sand. What hellish Court would claim this as their own? The Day Court must be a bunch of masochists he thought grumpily to himself, brows drawn low over narrowed eyes. 

Nodding silently at his judgement of the entire court of day, the Exile King tried to think of something that wasn't covered in sand and heat and misery and MORE SAND.