The storm caught Fell as he was leaving Salem. He stood on the peak of a dune, ocean in sight, when suddenly there was… not much of anything in sight at all. A grey-gold haze had filled the air.

He had thought it was just a breeze behind him. He hadn’t bothered to turn around and look, or he might have seen the ominous wall of sand swallowing land and sky. Fell dared not turn around now; he had seen the ocean ahead, knew it was close, knew he was headed in the right direction. His hooves scuffled in the sand as panic crept up on him. To be mute was one thing — he had learned to live with the restrictions of his disability, having had it since birth.

To be suddenly blind as well as mute? A recipe for disaster, he was sure. As he waited on the peak of the dune for some break in the blowing sand, the roaring of the storm grew louder, and Fell realized he was effectively deaf as well. The sand was whipping up around him with more vigor, and the haze had thickened into a solid curtain of sand. He couldn’t tell which way was up. His skin jumped and burned as the sand raked him, and finally the panic rose to a level he could no longer fight. He had no idea what to do in a sand storm — he was way out of his element. On Tinuvel, a blizzard could sneak up on you with little warning, but the driving snow didn’t hurt your skin, and it wasn’t so damn loud. Visibility was terrible, yes, but the trees were closely packed enough that you could usually tell where you were if you knew the area.

This was a different beast altogether. Fell plunged forward through the wall of sand, screwing his eyes shut against their stinging little bites. The only thoughts in his head were that he had to move and that he had to go straight if he wanted to make it to the shore.

FELL

stallion. 16hh. black. marwari x. Rougaru x visurix.