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"I hate this"

Sunset said it almost as often as the blind Acha- who wouldn't last a day in Sunset's tribe, by the way- asked if we were there yet. "I hate this"

He did, too. He hated everything about this stupid trip. There was nothing Sunset loved more than running at break-neck speed through the sandstone valleys of home. Turning and spinning with the path of the valley, his shoulder occasionally glancing off the rocks as he turned and leapt over rocks and cacti and snakes and whatever else presented itself. The only thing that could even come close were the cool summer nights, laying on the cold rocks listening to the chorus of voices as his tribe sang one of their many songs.

Sunset couldn't deny that when the dreams had started coming, he had felt them as strong as anyone. The strange call of distant lands, far beyond his desert home. He had felt the calls the same as everyone else in his tribe, but when they'd asked for volunteers to heed the call, Sunset was nowhere to be seen. Some had accused him of cowardice, and Sunset couldn't be bothered to correct them, but it was his love of home that kept him from volunteering his service, not fear of the unknown. Still, perhaps due to his stand-offishness, perhaps due to his strength and independence (Sunset flattered himself to think the latter) he had been chosen to represent his tribe and visit the strange new lands.

So here he was. Traveling through the open desert- refuge for the softest, weakest Acha. After the desert things had only gotten worse. Wide open fields of the softest cacti Sunset had ever seen. They covered the ground! They didn't hurt to walk on, but they couldn't even make it in the wide open dunes near his home, so how tough could they be, really?

As they continued, the air became increasingly moist. Moist! There was literally water in the air, brushing against his skin. Sunset had thought the wind and the gaping views were as bad as it could get. How anyone lived in such exposed, windy, and completely crappy locales was a complete mystery. He hated this with every bone in his body, and his compatriots were of absolutely no help.

'Are we close? Are we close? Are we close?' Or something equally annoying was coming from the blind Acha, reminding Sunset of just how much he missed home.

"I hate this."

Ochre smiles at the pink doe, it was sweet of her to offer the aid of her sand dog to keep Mirage safe. Maybe not necessary, since Ochre had decided to keep an eye on her friend anyway. But sweet none the less. So instead Ochre tended to fall back when the sand dog was near, unless Mirage wanted to talk to her, and caught up to him when Red-Stained Blossom forgot and called Kisses away. Ochre has spent as much of this journey trying to soak it all in, as trying to describe it to Mirage. Something that has become increasingly frustrating, it's hard enough trying to describe familiar things to someone who's never seen. Even harder when the things are new to you as well.

A light 'thwap' and Red-Stained Blossom's voice pull Ochre from her thoughts. Just in time to see the pink doe leaving the green buck. Ochre had tried, at first, to be friendly to Sunset's Longing only to find him full of complaints. Nothing was ever right for him, and he spent so much time bitching and moaning that Ochre wonders why he even came. Ochre just gives him a stair and a sigh, then trots over to Mirage. "I dunno, but it feels close. Smells close too. Very wet and full of life... Though, you knew that.. There's nothing to see that's new. I'll try again when we can see something I haven't attempted to explain yet.. Unless you really want me to try again?" Ochre offers, trying to sound happy about it. She normally loves telling Mirage about their world, but this trip has been long and hard, and fear of more disappointments have made what she once saw as a game into a chore.

Figment of Imagination hated party poopers -- especially when they were raining on quite a peppy parade on his part. He had decided to simply ignore Sunset's Longing as soon as the buck had begun whining, but he was near breaking down and simply asking why in the world he'd even decided to join them on the journey. Couldn't he have asked to stay behind, among the red cliffs he loved? Hmm, red cliffs, whatever those looked like... Perhaps it would have been frowned upon, but surely it should have been an option, shouldn't it?

Luckily, Red-Stained Blossom responded to his whining this time, and Mirage's urge to say anything was quelled, for now. Later he might surely ask, though it wouldn't be an explosion, just a final voicing of a question he'd had for their entire journey. Probably accompanied by half of an exasperated sigh.

Red-Stained Blossom was also being very sweet to Illusion. Despite the fact that he didn't necessarily need Kisses by his side, the tan buck very much appreciated the sentiment. He wouldn't, under any circumstances, however, tell her that he could feel the vibrations of their hooves and the disruption in the air well enough to follow them (though perhaps he might fall a bit out of sync sometimes). Instead, when kisses showed up at his side or slightly ahead, he would occasionally bow and brush her with his muzzle affectionately, though he wasn't sure if she recognized the nod the way he meant it.

When Ochre answered him again, he could hear the slight tension in her voice. Inwardly, he wilted a bit; outwardly, he smiled and nodded at her attempts to quell his curiosity. "Thank you, so much. I'm sorry that I keep asking. I'm just so excited!" He loved that he could sense it coming, could smell and feel the change all around, and he only assumed that such would have to mean that something was changing visually as well. He sometimes forgot the hyper-sensitivity he possessed because of his condition, and was clearly over-eager in this situation. He already had to imagine so much of the world, he just couldn't imagine this new place without some help. After all, it was a world completely different from their own. "I'll stop asking so much. You can just tell me when you think it's appropriate to acknowledge some change." Unfortunately, he'd probably forget this promise if it took very much longer to get there. He didn't mean to, at all! But his energy might surely overwhelm him in time.

To Debates the Wind's comment, Figment of Imagination could only sigh and reply, "I certainly hope it won't be much longer. I've been able to keep myself going, but I'm starting to feel my legs ache, despite my excitement." He hopped for a few steps to stretch his legs in different ways. "Did your sand dog find anything?" He was curious when he thought he heard the dog coming back, stretching his neck and turning so his ear was more in that direction, though it didn't very much help.