Brother. A single word uttered from parched lips. I warned you Jaxon, but you refuse to listen The voice whispers darkly. Jaxon closes his dark eyes, the sting of salt reminds him of his cowardice. He lifts his thick head from the sand, a few grains of sand cling to his dark coat. He can feel his muscles twitch from exhaustion, his brother wouldn't of been exhausted. That is because you are weak Jaxon. The voice taunts.

He lifts his head higher and folds his legs beneath his body, and heaves himself upwards. As his shaky legs find their bearings, his dark eyes begin to take in his surroundings. Where was he? He can feel the warmth of the sun on his sooty coat as the rising sun ticks towards midafteroon. He swivels his heavy head toward his left, a breeze wafts the heavy musk of other brutes. He takes a stride, to his left the pull to join other brothers was unquestionable. With each step his strength begins to return to his muscled legs.

A sigh escapes his parched lips as the shade envelops his dark body, finally. Don't be such a wuss. Jaxon buries his ears into the dark mess of mane. What do you know? He asks out loud. I know more than you think little brother. The voice replys. As Jaxon nears the border of this place, he raises his heavy head higher onto his muscled shoulders, a bellow rips from deep from within his chest, insuring that he would he heard. Dark eyes peer into the darkness, waiting for whoever leads this swamp to make himself known.