Nimbus had long since given up on recovering his two mares. In response to their withdrawl he flushed his mind of all thoughts and emotions. Unfortunately he knew he could not forget them no matter how long he kept up the empty state of mind. His eyes fell lazily onto a patch of the dry grass which the dunes provided. Soon, his body lurched heavily towards it and his lips found it so he could rip it from the sand. The cynical way which his land gave him food so devoid of nourishment would have made him laugh if he were not in this state.
The blue roan looked up once the pathetic patch of grass had been devoured. His eyes found comfort in the middle distance, the empty space between him and anything of interest. The space called to him so seductively that he could not resist taking a few steps toward the imaginary spot. "Nimbus," its call echoed in his head, and soon he was lulled into a lucid day dream. The expanse of sand and sky gave way to an all encompassing darkness which mirrored his mind, his empty tired mind.
There he imagined the three other horses he had brought to the dunes beside him: Amour, Hailip, and Kahawa. One by one they departed, starting with the stallion, then the one speckled white, and finally the innocent female. They all faded into the darkness, but just after the Kahawa he had imagined left, a shrill and much more palpable voice penetrated the hallucination.
Aroused, his neck snapped up from its lazy position. Nimbus's eyes were still focused on the spot they were before, and there he saw Kahawa running back towards him on the sands. He disregarded it, believing it was a mirage. There was nothing to benefit from a mirage; he knew that. Therefore he also knew not to travel towards the pool of water for salvation, or in this case the mare. Instead he dragged his hooves to the next patch of lack of nourishment and grazed.
To his surpise, a living breathing mare who looked just like Kahawa had made it to his side. From her he recieved a hearty welcome. All he could give in return, though, was a whinny. His forelegs kicked themselves off the ground while his hindlegs repelled him from the apparition. It was as though he had seen a ghost, because to him he had.
As he caught his breath he reconsidered the words he heard. He cared little for the thanks so he focused on this place being a wasteland without his presence. He had caught his breath, but for some reason the image did not fade. Instead of continuing to graze he decided to succumb to his subconscious and play along. He spoke hesitantly and stupidly. "It's nice to... See?.. You..." It was bizarre for him to talk to his imagination, but it was the most company he had had for a while. Beggars aren't after all choosers. "This place is still a wasteland with me."
Clydesdale mutt | stallion | 17.1hh | blue roan sabino | 5 years