The final rays of the sun stretch across the horizon. Greedily illuminating every object it can while it burns into dusk. The familiar shape of the Oasis carves itself into the sand. Sebastien moves, each step is effortless. The desert speaks to him as it does any Solterran. A place of fondness, where many come to rest their weary bodies from the heat of the day. Sebastien crests one of the many dunes between the Oasis and the city gates. Below him are the shapes of bodies, some splashing, some lounging in the shallows. It is a quiet scene, idyllic he thinks. Yes, the desert whispers to him. Once a roar now a dull hum. The traitor hums back. Back, back into the sweeping cloak of night. As the temperature begins to fall, the equines begin to move away from the Oasis. It isn't wise to remain in the pool long after the sun has set. A desert is still a desert, and temperatures may drop below freezing on some of the worst nights.
Soft, faded stars begin to flicker into existence as an explosion of colours consumes the sky. Pinks against a navy fading background. One by one, more stars begin to light up the night sky. Sebastien does not move as he peers into the heavens painted by their gods. Vapor escapes his lips, and he smiles. Tonight will be a cold night. It will nip and gnaw at the exposed flesh of travelers and natives alike. His bare nape is the first part of him to grow cold atop the dune. Ash and stardust. That is what he is made of, he thinks. Sebastien sinks. Sinks into the sands as he descends from the peak of the dune. Toward the Oasis that is now mostly empty. There are a few stragglers that linger. Mostly lovers whispering sweet nothings to one another. A lie. There is no such thing as love, only possession.
Sebastien is thankful for the minor reprieve the valley provides from the winds that sweep across the desert. Wisps of sand sail into the sky as if they too are eager to become stars. They are no stars, they are too plain. Too heavy. Sand is not beautiful the way that stars are. They do not burn. He exhales more vapor as he stops beside the Oasis to peer at his reflection. He is aware of how empty his side is now that Meira is gone. Gone like the sands swept into the winds.
@Zakariah
Soft, faded stars begin to flicker into existence as an explosion of colours consumes the sky. Pinks against a navy fading background. One by one, more stars begin to light up the night sky. Sebastien does not move as he peers into the heavens painted by their gods. Vapor escapes his lips, and he smiles. Tonight will be a cold night. It will nip and gnaw at the exposed flesh of travelers and natives alike. His bare nape is the first part of him to grow cold atop the dune. Ash and stardust. That is what he is made of, he thinks. Sebastien sinks. Sinks into the sands as he descends from the peak of the dune. Toward the Oasis that is now mostly empty. There are a few stragglers that linger. Mostly lovers whispering sweet nothings to one another. A lie. There is no such thing as love, only possession.
Sebastien is thankful for the minor reprieve the valley provides from the winds that sweep across the desert. Wisps of sand sail into the sky as if they too are eager to become stars. They are no stars, they are too plain. Too heavy. Sand is not beautiful the way that stars are. They do not burn. He exhales more vapor as he stops beside the Oasis to peer at his reflection. He is aware of how empty his side is now that Meira is gone. Gone like the sands swept into the winds.
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