She was so very tired. All she could see before her was large, rolling hills of the same deep, soft, shifting sand that swallowed her thin limbs as she moved. It was like snow in the effort it took to move through, but at least it did not freeze. Desperation was beginning to pick at the frayed edges of her psyche, ready to swallow her whole if she didn’t find any sustenance soon.

You’re going the wrong way.

It had come from the side of darkness, the side Idelle could not see. She turned quickly, pulling her head to the side so she could cast the stranger in her sight, and noticed a thin, agile black mare standing atop one of the nearby sandy dunes. She appeared collected, confident; immediately Idelle entrusted this mare knew this place, a native of sorts. She may have been a stranger and Idelle knew she should be wary, but she was so thirsty and so hungry that she could only feel relief to see another face in this sea of sand.

“Thank you,” she said, though her throat was dry and her voice cracked. If not for this stranger’s interference, how far would Idelle have wandered and what would have become of her? She swallowed, hard, with what saliva she could gather, and looked toward the mare. “Which way?” She asked, gaze pleading (the good eye, at least, the other, milky-white and useless one pointed toward the side opposite of where the mare stood).

idelle
demons born of past wrongs that hound and harrass him
one and a half year old filly. black. half-blind. sandman x cam