Featured Characters: Malakai, Siavash, Raqim

Featured Location: Nothern Haeda

Weight shifted heavily between his hooves, dark eyes watching the water below them uneasily--the rain had stopped, the massive amount of water was gone…but ponds still lingered, pooling at the deepest valleys and veins within the already too-shifty sands. It would be far too dangerous to step hoof onto the soaked-through sand until those pools dissipated completely. The solid rock offered a reprieve from it, at least, and his frame--heavy, sturdy, standing as tall as an elephant--offered space for his companion to shelter. Siavash was curled by his front hooves and underneath his stomach, his yellow eyes trained intently and warily on the strange stallion that they had come across. He laid just two small steps away from Malakai and the leopard, coat shiny and soaked through, and his mane clinging to his neck like thick leeches that refused to detach. His eyes weren't lifted towards them any further, and from the corner of Malakai's own, he could tell the stallion was tired.

Still, the silence that had once been filled with pouring ran, ran as dry as Haeda typically was; barren and desolate of conversation that flowed. Malakai was not one for talking. It seemed the other stallion didn't have much to say, either, and Siavash surely wouldn't break the stillness. It was what the shade favored about his dark-hued companion. He spoke when necessary, but was otherwise a quiet presence. A shadow, with keen sight and an even keener smell. Without the rain clogging his nostrils, he'd be able to smell danger far before either of them saw it.

Siavash had saved his hide several times before, from numerous kinds of encounters. Aggressive horses, those of golden blood and fiery coats, predatory stalkers that lurked where Malakai hadn't quite seen them--and the worst of them all, the bald primates and their sickly stench. Malakai had a good nose on him, but Siavash was sensitive. The sickly sweet smells from the thunderous runners that they rode, the smell of smoke--never a fire that truly smelled like one--and just their general stink. Heavy, unnatural.

Click! Clickclack. The sounds spurred Malakai from his thoughts, dark eyes darting over to the movement of the white-touched stallion as he rose from where he'd been curled. The sound had come from his hooves gently striking the solid red rocks they stood upon, soft grunts and puffs of air accompanying the movement. His eyes darted towards the ground again, ears pinning.

"Don't," came his command, lip curling in frustration. A stupid stallion is what this one was. Could he not see the puddles? The way the sand was still far too soaked? He would be swallowed by the desert itself, and Malakai would not save him a second time.

The rigidness of the quiet male returned, his green-hued eyes glancing nervously between the duo shadows, and the ground. Depending on who you were and what you believed, the ground was a far safer option.

However, that was just simply a fact with Malakai. The well-hidden pool of sand and water was a safer option…because at least it was predictable. The shadow of the stallion, striped like windswept dunes, dark as a stormy night within a cave? Even a good judge of character wouldn't be able to decipher the actions, or the thoughts inside his ebony head.

The command seemed to win over the quiet stallion, as his weight shifted further back onto the red rocks they were perched upon. He sank down once more, long legs folding underneath his body and an unease holding his muscles taut. He looked far from comfortable, green-hued eyes flickering occasionally back towards the shades on the edge of his vision. Seemed he was smart enough to listen.

The shade's attention was eager to drift off of the champagne stallion, instead turning to the dark and near-starless sky. The storm clouds still haunted the eastern horizon, looming over the Faraji Grasslands like a vulture waiting for a sick animal to perish. While it would have made many uneasy, there was a sense of peace that followed Malakai with every storm he experienced. A cleansing, even if only mentally. It wasn't like the rains offered him salvation from the many sins he'd committed, nor the blood that stained his hooves, his teeth. It would cling to him forever, and would stare right back at him in every reflection he dared peek at.

"...I never thanked you," a voice shattered the silence, and broke Malakai from his thoughts once more. Shadowy, dark eyes darted towards the other stallion with mild ire, expression turning into a crude distaste, "What?"

"For saving me, from the…cave…I never thanked you, so...thank you," the stallion responded, green-hued eyes flickering down and away from the intense stare of the shade. The nostrils of the brindled stallion flared wide, his ears pinning to the back of his head. Thanking him? What the fuck was this one on about? Why thank a shade of all things--and especially one like him?

"Foolish," was all Malakai commented, lips curling briefly and his massive head swinging away from the champagne. An unease was quick to settle in his bones, his hooves shifting under the pressure that just didn't seem to get comfortable.

Thank you. Like hell it was genuine. No one was ever genuine to him, unless they were within moments of meeting the Veilspinner, and begging for him to spare them.

Please, Saya! I won't hunt your kind down ever again!

Lying through their teeth, like fucking usual.

I'll change, I swear!

No one ever changed. Their nature was written in stone.

Have mercy on me and my family, Saya!

Just like their nature was to lie, to cheat…his was to never give mercy.

Mercy will get you killed, Alakai.

"Uhm…sorry, Saya, but…would you be willing to accompany me to the oasis my brothers and I were uhm…traveling to? I'm not uh…used to traveling alone," the champagne's voice broke through the silence once again. A searing wave of irritation broke through Malakai's tense form, dark eyes again turning to the laying stallion that seemed so keen on breaking the brittle peace. His ears pinned, lip curling and jaw opening to speak--though a weighted paw against his leg stopped him. His gaze flickered down to his shadowed brother, meeting yellow eyes that glittered and were just as jaded.

He may not make the journey.

Siavash was right.

Malakai's head swung towards the western horizon. A swirling cloud of breath fumed from flared nostrils, and his teeth ground together for a brief moment. "...which Oasis?"

"We uh…were headed towards Faraji," the stallion answered, head tilting slightly, "Is that…going to be a problem?"

"No," Malakai answered abruptly. His head lowered towards the ground, chin resting by the rocks near his hooves--and studying the sand. It was slightly drier than it had been. Not free of danger, but no one ever was on this forsaken island. With grunt, Malakai shifted his weight forwards, and began to make his way down off of the rocky outcropping. The red rocks, dimmed and brown by the rain, were slick, and threatened a slip any time his hoof settled--and yet, he made his way down and onward. His head swung to catch a glimpse of the champagne just over his shoulder, sneering, "Are you following, or not?"

Green eyes blinked at him, before the stallion seemed to panickedly jump into action; the white parts of his coat stained by red rock and sand. He was far less graceful as he clambered down off of the slick earth. All it took was one--a quiet yell from the champagne startled both of them, as he slid and collided right with Malakai's solid body; the dark coat stallion's head rearing with a grimace, a squeal of shock from the champagne, and unstable sand leading to unstable horses. They both hit the soaked sand with a heavy thud, legs tangling as it worsened with each movement from either of the stallions.

"So-Sorry! I'm sorry!" the other managed out, "Let me--let--oh, hold on--"

"Quit moving," Malakai snapped, yanking his legs free--and shunting his front two hooves towards the other's chest to push him farther away. His ears pinned, rolling back to his hooves and looming over his company, "You're lucky I made a promise, and I keep to my word."

The champagne seemed to shrink back, his ears pinning to the back of his head. Green eyes glinted with mildly welling tears, though a subtle fury burned low in the pupils. Malakai's body roiled with the adrenaline that had come with the contact; though he forced it down and instead turned to begin chasing after the storm that had caused all of this in the first place.

He made no note of if the champagne got up to follow him--if he was smart, he wouldn't--and instead pressed forwards. Thunder pulsed in his ears, his limbs moving with a fire that refused to dissipate even as he walked. His body would cool itself off, he knew it would. It was conditioned to come alive for a fight.

Malakai's head lifted as weight landed on his back, gaze catching sight of his shadowed brother.

"Would it not be safer to travel during the day?" the champagne's voice called--he was a little farther behind than Malakai had anticipated, but he refused to slow his pace for any. A lip curled with a roll of his eyes, calling back, "Night only. Black coat curse."

"Oh…right," a quiet mumble--something Malakai could hardly hear from where he was. Right indeed. Everyone forgot, except the Shades themselves.

Silence stretched on into hours, filled only by the gentle haunting wail of winds between the ever-shifting dunes. The distant clouds that darkened the horizon were miles upon miles ahead of them, and yet, the rolling thunder that he could still hear reminded him just how long they'd been in the rain before it had stopped. They were soaked, they were likely to come down with an illness--maybe they'd get lucky and the heat of the daytime desert would be enough to sear off anything that dared try. Behind them, the gentle yet ominous glow of sunrise was beginning to coat the horizon and all of its edges, the black night fading into a vivid red that cast the deepest shadows of dunes. His dark gaze watched the horizon with a grim expression. The Outer God was awakening, and Malakai did not intend to be caught in his ire, if he could help it. Finding shelter in the barren desert as it was? Nearly impossible.

There wasn't much of an option, but this was something Malakai was rather accustomed to. Traveling over Haeda was something he'd done numerous times, and it was all done through night travel.

"We rest," he spoke simply, turning to begin heading to a valley between the dunes, orienting himself carefully in the way it followed the flows of massive sand. Ripples were carved into the sides, undisturbed until Malakai touched it, and then falling into a fluid shifting; cascading down over itself. His gaze lingered only momentarily on the flow of sand, before he finally reached the valley. He regarded it carefully, head swinging towards the sky and taking in where the horizons were. He could not see the East filled with clouds, and he could not see the West's fiery glow. There would only be a few hours that he would be caught in the sun's full wrath, but it was far better than all day.

The champagne seemed confused as Malakai seemed to make his decision, working his way down the dunes carefully to reach his guide's placement.

"Are…we not going to roast right here?" He asked, drawing near the shade with confusion clearly etched into his expression. Malakai's ear flicked, side-eying the stallion, but no words came. Rather, he was content to fall back to silence, and turned his back towards the champagne. Weight shifted on his back, before it disappeared completely. The soft crunch and thud of sand underneath Saivash's weight came seconds after--and more surprisingly, his voice.

"Dunes will cast shadows for most of the day, on either side," he explained with a soft trill, "We'll only have to deal with the full force for a little bit, before the sun sinks right back down and casts shadows for us to hide in once more."

"Oh…" the champagne murmured, "That..makes sense. What, uhm…what are your names?"

"Saivash," the leopard introduced, sliding out underneath Malakai's form and against the still-damp sand. His tail curled over his haunch, yellow eyes peering closely at the foreign stallion. Malakai's ear simply flicked again, his silence far louder than any words he could have denied the stallion with. He wasn't interested in sharing niceties.

"It's uhm…it's nice to meet you, Siavash, Saya," the stallion murmured, "My name is Raqim." 

There was no response from either of the shadows--one had already shared his name, and the other refused to even speak to the stranger unless it was necessary. Besides, exhaustion was starting to pull at him, luring his mind towards the gentle embrace of a good day's sleep. His limbs were heavy, and they refused to budge even a fraction of a step more, the turbulent wind that had brought the storm on its wings now a gentle breeze, and a quiet lullaby. His lids fell lax, his head lowering despite the shift of movement from Raqim. The stallion was no doubt just as tired as he, he was probably go--

Malakai jolted as the presence of the other stallion enclosed on his own--he was expecting some kind of hoof to his hide, teeth snapping near him perhaps. Something to start a fight, and yet when he looked at the champagne…

He was just in the process of laying down, just half a foot away from his hooves. Unconcerned, and unphased--stupid--and none the wiser to the amount of blood that often dried on the hooves he rested near. He had no idea the company he shared, and he was so willing to share a rest with him.

Is that the lack of fear so many non-Shades had? Could they lead lives without having to look over their shoulder so warily? So unguarded?

Every fiber of his being told him it was foolish to be so trusting--that even if he had been born with a different coat, his life would hardly be different. He'd still be looked at differently, still be cursed. Yet, still…a small, unbreakable piece of him wanted that reality to be true.

His gaze turned towards the lightening sky, flickering between the twinkling stars as they faded into the growing orange. Seconds quickly turned to minutes, and minutes into hours--sleep and exhaustion weighed heavy on his eyes, his mind, his very hooves that held him aloft…and yet, all that he could manage was a gentle dozing. In and out, startling awake to the simplest and gentlest of sounds. Sometimes it was a rough wind sweeping sand, sometimes it was the gentle shift of the champagne stallion--others, simply a figment of his mind.

Prickles ran up along his spine, startling him and head swinging around. His gaze was met with a massive, blazing white sun over large, red-rocked mountains. The sun hung low over the tallest peak, perched like a precarious bird. Malakai flinched, head bowing, and eyes squinting against the brightness. Like an eye, it stared him down, watching every movement. Burning, blistering; heat that threatened to stiffen every muscle as pain and cactus needles pricked into all of his muscles. Pinned, to where he was. Not even a hoof could move.

Wretched zaleel.

Black fur singed, grey-black smoke swirling and wafting into the air.

Spending your entire pitiful life, hiding in the shadows.

Skin blistered, peeling and eating away as the heat drove further and further into the fibers of his being.

Your time is coming, kameenay, you will be the last of an era.

A scream erupted from Malakai's throat, body arching and straining against the invisible holds that kept him in place; the sizzling of his skin and muscles sickening to his ears; the smell clogging his throat and nostrils. His hooves, melting and melding to the sand, his mane falling in clumps. Burning, burning, burning, burning--

"Malakai!"

His eyes shot open, gaze finding the sand beneath his hooves. Intact hooves. Head unmoving, his gaze found the one who spoke--the black leopard he called his kin, yellow eyes wide as saucers.

"Are you with me?" the leopard asked, voice softer than the shout he'd just shared. Malakai's head lifted slowly, taking in his surroundings. The sun was setting to the western horizon, a simple small dot hiding behind the dunes. Unease made his hooves shift, moving freely--albeit heavily. His hooves were like boulders, and it took almost everything to move each of them individually. But he could move them.

"...'m good," he muttered under his breath, aware of just how weak his voice was.

"Are you sure?" The unfamiliar voice was a stark reminder of who was with him. Malakai's dark eyes flickered towards the stallion, his expression scrunching in distaste briefly.

A paw pressed against his leg, drawing his attention back to his brother--and the subtle concern wrinkling the leopard's face…unnerving. Why was Siavash looking at him like that?
"What?"

"...you were screaming, my Bhai," Siavash spoke, ears flattening, "Do you not remember?"

"...I'm fine."

Siavash's expression hardened a touch, skepticism heavy in his eyes--but he knew far better than to press. The weight of Sia's paw left his forelimb, as the leopard turned around and began to survey their surroundings. Malakai's eyes finally left Siavash's form alone, joining his careful watch as he oriented himself back with reality.

"Let's go," Malakai grunted. With a stride as heavy as a bag of stones, he began to make his way towards the eastern horizon--leaving the sun behind him, and what had happened.

He could feel eyes on him, as he walked--from which one, he wasn't sure. He didn't care enough to look. He couldn't bring himself to look. He couldn't help feeling that it was neither of his traveling companions.