WOTW | Zaid | Mission Trip by mimogene on DeviantArt (original) (raw)

♦ Lead: Zaid ♦ Featured Horses: Zaid ♦ Responding to: none ♦ Tracker: Google Drive

♦ RNG Rolls: no ♦ Healing: no ♦ Ageing: no *Extra: word count 940

Mission

Intense heat makes the air thick in the desert. With no water, there’s hardly any life among the arid flats. The sky was open and empty- of course, since no bird would dare fly during the hottest hours of the day. Dunes rose up to the left, scarcely dotted with cacti and spindly, dead trees. Zaid looked forward into the heat haze, squinting his eyes to try to grasp the lay of the land ahead. More hot, barren, pale sand. He presses on into the sandswept wilderness.

The young stallion trekked into the dunes, desperate for shade. Zaid’s pelt was stiff from dried sweat, past the point that his body could attempt to regulate his temperature. His legs were coated in sand, and the bottoms of his hooves were cracked from walking on the coarse ground. He had spent four nights traveling into the Haeda Desert, sent on a mission to bring back the sun. A suicide mission, but he didn’t understand that at the time.

Zaid, barely out of colthood, heeds from the coast of the Desta Mountains in a dry basin at the delta of a river where freshwater meets salt. The river feeds life into the banks and fields of his home, providing for his herd. His herd worships the sun- bah! The sun could go screw itself right about now, considering it was so hot that the stallion couldn’t sweat any more. But yes, his herd worshiped the sun, and they had daily sun rituals to praise the red sun as it crested the desert horizon every morning. Without the sun, the water would just be water, the grass would be dead, and the basin would be cold. A life in shadow would be a miserable one, and as such, one should worship the sun, according to his herd. He scoffed at the thought.

He winced as the sand beneath him gave way down the dune, sending his heart pounding at the possibility of tumbling. He could feel the sharp sting of sunburn on his nose and his back, where his fur had thinned from being nipped and scorned. His lungs heaved as he pulled himself up to the top of the dune, exerting himself as much as he could. His legs collapsed under him as he looked at where he was headed. Nowhere. He was sent to the desert to die.

His breath caught in his throat- why? Why was he out here? He’d only ever done his best, yet he was punished for it. Just because he had blue eyes and some white markings on his sides, did that really mean he was worth less than his peers? Zaid laid his head on the ground, feeling like his head was spinning in the insufferable heat. Why go through all this trouble? He wanted to cry, but his eyes were dry. He sighed a long, sad sigh as his eyes fluttered closed. Even through his eyelids, the sun was blinding. That’s it, he thought, I’ll let the sun take me instead.

Zaid woke with a start as a vulture pecked at his side. He grunted and jumped to his feet, biting at the carrion bird. He watched with pinned ears as the creature flew away, toward the east. He took a breath of the cool night time air and shook sand from his pelt. Every following breath felt like claws dragging down his throat- he needed water. He stumbled down the dune and followed the jackal trail. It must lead somewhere, right? He was sluggish, the sand swimming in front of his eyes. He swayed back and forth as he made his way, motivated by the vultures that circled and cawed in the sky above him.

The trail circled around the base of another dune and traced all the way into a dream. Well, okay, not a dream, but it seemed too good to be true. The path weaved into grass and lush brush, down a slope to a cloudy oasis that was surrounded by palm trees. Zaid let himself fall into the knee-high water. He rolled and gulped and played in it- it was warm and chalky, but it was enough for him. He wallowed in the mud at the shore until it coated him from ear tip to tail tip.

Zaid pulled himself just far enough away from the water so that he wasn’t still standing in mud and flopped happily onto his side in the grass, rolling over and over like a colt that couldn’t contain his excitement. He laughed at himself as he nearly cast himself against a palm tree, hooves in the air. He stretched out his legs as he rolled to his side again, taking a mouthful of grass and chewing it, savoring it. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the scent of the oasis- mud, palm, petrichor, sweat. He inhaled as deep as he could, feeling his exhaustion begin to melt away.

He was too distracted by his own ecstasy to hear the steady hoofbeats approaching him. Zaid flinched as he felt weight press down on his neck, eyes darting toward the culprit. What looked back down at him was a silhouette against the moon with a gaze that could kill. Zaid gulped his chewed grass and tried to writhe away, only for more pressure to be put on his neck. He was in too sorry of a state to even try to get away. Before he could make any noise, his captor spoke.

“Don’t move,” A low feminine voice growled, followed by a hostile snort, “Don’t move, and I won’t kill you, outlander.”