The feeling of abandonment had settled in quickly once Shyla had arrived at the desert. She'd been a fool, a brief slip in her facade had left her, yet again, feeling burned. Something about the curly haired stallion, Volk, had stirred something deep within the splashed roan mare, something primal.

Now it felt a waste.

Shyla had long since forgotten how bitter disappointment tasted on her tongue. She remembered now, however, oh yes she did. Her face contorts, red lips twisting as her ears find themselves buried within tousled strands as Shy stamps her foot in annoyance with herself and for the stallion who'd left her behind. 'This is what you get for letting someone in.' the voice retorted. Shy's eyes flashed in annoyance.

Though one thing the Arabian mutt found herself grateful for was the desert. This was her home, albeit not the same as then one she'd grown up in but she could make do. The hot sand had never felt more welcome beneath her hooves, it provided comfort. Shy was thankful for the sand, heaven knows she needs something stable in her life.

Shyla felt that was the only reason she'd stayed without the desert long after the smell of the curly-haired one had faded. Not that it took long, there wasn't much here to hold on to smells. No grass, trees, dirt. Just sand. Sand sand sand. Lovely lovely sand. Shy wondered if she'd gone crazy, if maybe all these days in the heat had addled her brain after she'd had such an absence of warmth prior to her residence here. Oh well!' Shyla thought to herself, '"let whoever occupy this place next deal with it!'

Shy couldn't help but feel a hint of pride at the dwelling she'd taken up. It had taken her days to find it but she hadn't left since. It was what one would call an oasis, but that was almost borderline generous. The area itself was not large enough to sustain a group of more than five. It lay at the base of a few dunes, shelter from the sub existed during certain parts of the day. A few blips of desert foliage lay scattered about the area, denser nearer to small pool of water then more sporadic. Shyla, wisely, choose to remain close to the pool, most of the time. The denser spattering of trees within its nearby provided a pitiful amount of shade, but it was better than being exposed to blazing hot sun every day for ten hours.

Shy's reddened facade is lowered as the paint girl lets the cool liquid slid down her throat. Chestnut ears twist about, flickering this way and that. One could never let their guard down in the desert. Just yesterday Shy had seen a snake coiled beneath a rock in her oasis. She'd thought better of her immediate action to chase the thing away and left it alone.

For now she drank her water. You never knew when the water would suddenly dry up in the desert. Shyla had heard dying of thirst was particularly painful.



'thoughts thoughts thoughts' "speech speech speech"