Thorne kept looking back at the moon as he trudged across the lunar-lit rocks. ‘Those fucking eyes… Was that what that windbag warned me about? What about the totem!? Why didn’t it work?! Or...did it? He made it seem like she could influence dreams…’

He had slept a bit longer than he had wanted, but at least it was undisturbed by natural causes. He had one of his favorite 'nightmares', though he was hoping the totem would keep them at bay. Luck wasn’t on his side on that one, but he counted his blessings that he got to rest without an animal or any insects annoying him.

Thorne shifted the pack across his shoulder and broke into a brisk walk, his eyes falling from the lunar body and back onto his path. His mind fell back into his surroundings and what he should be expecting. ‘I shouldn’t be off my original trajectory. If that boat is a straight shot from his cave, then I shouldn’t have deviated by more than a couple meters. I should see it on the shoreline when I arrive. Though if it isn’t…’

The man paused a moment. “Oh fuck me sideways if it isn’t anywhere within line of sight, I am going to scream.” He grumbled and shifted his pack onto his other shoulder, holding it with his left so he could rub his face with his right. He started his pace again, resentment in his heart for his brain thinking in such cruel ways.

‘Okay, if it isn’t there, surely there will be some driftwood or maybe some greenery near the edge. This entire place can’t be full of desert and rocks. If I pass an oasis, I’ll take a refreshing bath and try to harvest some wood. I could build a pallet and drag it. It’d slow me down, but I’d be able to start a fire and maybe a ship would see the fire.’

Thorne gave a derisive snort. ‘Though, if they see a fire from some exiled lands, they’ll think I’m just someone with a scheme. No chance any naval guard would approach. Unless it was an S.O.S. But I don’t know how to signal that in this bloody language. It could be all hooves and tail swishes for all I know! Gods! Damn! It!’

He gave his forehead a swift slap with his palm. ‘No, come on damn it! Genius brain! Let’s go! Think, think, think… Could set up some rocks where I make landing on the beach to mark where I am, then carry some more and go up and down the beach. Surely… two clicks in either direction? That should be more than enough! Hell, the beach might not even be that big!’

That train of thought skidded to a stop so roughly that it jumped the tracks. ‘Oh fuck, how big is this beach? Okay, don’t panic. We just keep going east. Long as we’re heading toward the rising sun, we’ll get there. We’ll find what we need.’

He nodded at himself. ‘Just keep going east. Endure and adapt.’

It was already noon again and Thorne was running on fumes. He had been going since just after moon rise. He had jogged most of the way. He could feel his muscles straining in the heat that now rose to claim the desert. He was happy to be out of pure sand, but the rocks and canyons didn’t do him any better. Now he was just weary of any animal that might come and claim him.

But he hadn’t seen any animal. Not even a reptile of some type. This surprised him, seeing as they had been abundant in the desert. Granted, they hid from humans unless they were aggressive or territorial--or both--and they happened to only tan on rocks for warmth before vanishing. He kept telling himself he had no frame of reference for this world and that everything was alien, but it felt supernatural.

Though he didn’t discount his blessing. So long as nothing venomous got him, or something large enough to eat him whole, before he got weapons and armor, he would continue to thank providence.

Now it was a matter of finding a hole to crawl in for a short rest. He needed to get out of the elements. His body was in revolt. His skin was starting to blister in places and his feet had suffered abuse like never before. He could feel the cracks and splits that were forming and each step brought a slight rush of pain. He knew it was a matter of time before each step was laced with blood.

Another thing he was trying to fight off was delirium. Lack of food and water had their complications. He had his rations, of course, but he wasn’t about to stuff his face. He needed enough to survive, and enough to get to this mysterious new land. From there, the mission began. He could starve himself little by little, adjust his body to it. Then he would gradually go back to full meals. He had learned in his youth that one doesn’t just go from starving to eating a full meal. He had lost that meal as quickly as he had eaten it.

Thorne was thankful for the lack of mirages. He assumed he was too mentally fortified for that, but he had seen what trained specialists in the desert heat could see and run toward. He prided himself on focus and was too egotistical to let go. He was a force of sheer will in his own mind. A part of his brain chalked it up to magic. A part of his brain told him that magic would be the reason he fell for such tricks.

‘Fucking magic. I want to love you, I do, but you’re going to be a dick… Speaking of…’

He tugged at his poncho, looking at the mark that was over his heart. It had faded completely, but he could feel it there. ‘A year before I die, huh? So much to do, so much to see. I wonder if I could rebuild Black Roses? Maybe turn it into a true thieves guild!’ He sounded mentally giddy at that. ‘I know that bastard is just going to kill me once the job is done. If I had a dollar for every time an employer wanted to ‘tie up loose ends’, I’d be a very rich man. Maybe I can make enough money to bribe some powerful mage to get it off me. Maybe my death will be explosive! That sounds hilarious!’

Thorne reached up and caressed the Chaos Star under the cloth. He let a hollow sigh. ‘Okay maybe not that hilarious. Sounds dark and depressing. But fuck you brain, we’re not allowed to be dark and depressed right now. We have a lot to do.’

His thoughts were interrupted as he spied another, smaller, and nowhere near as protected, hole. It was more akin to an indent in the side of a small plateau that he had been following along on his trip east. It offered little, but at least he didn’t have to check it for beasts. After a quick glossary glance around, he settled into it and raised his poncho up to shield himself from the sun. Again he took some of his food and water before shutting his eyes in an attempt to force a nap.

It took several minutes, but a light slumber took him.

The sound of growling made him tense. ‘Shit!’ He thought to himself. It was right next to his face. His mind hit the proverbial edge. The nap and exertion had dulled his senses, but he was alert enough to know he was in danger and the danger was far too close for him to react.

‘How did you get so close?! Fuck! Okay. Calm. Breathe. No sudden moves.’

Thorne took a slow breath and looked up slowly, opening his eyes. The growling slowly faded off.

Before him stood a swirling mass of sand and stone. It seemed to flow like it was in an hourglass, but it went along set lines. The form it took was that of a coyote--or at least what looked like one. Glowing yellow eyes and what looked like jagged rocks for teeth. Yet the entire creature was shifting as it stood still, staring at the human in contemplation.

“Good… sand creature… No need to think of me as a meal…” he said aloud, licking his lips to wet them.

Several others entered his vision, as if manifesting out of the wind itself. Their bodies materialized, pulling stones and sand into their form. They approached, but made no sounds. The one before him, however, growled at the trepidation in Thorne’s voice.

Thorne only growled back and shifted, unmaking that defensive curl he had.

The alpha's growl ceased. It even backed away from him, as did the others. Thorne seized the opportunity to spring to his feet. They made no moves to pin him like prey. Instead, they formed a small band before him, each standing side by side, yellow eyes staring into his golden. In total, they numbered at seven. He was outnumbered and they were magic. He knew he stood no chance. And as that thought formed in his head, they all started to growl in unison.

Thorne’s mind immediately went to offense as his hidden blade snapped from his prosthetic. He snarled at the group like a beast himself, his actions demanding respect. To his surprise, that respect was met. They ceased their complaints. This made him cease his.

The quiet that followed was palpable. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears, but he was doing his best to keep the adrenaline in check.

“Can you understand me?” He questioned. ‘It was worth a shot, right?’

The alpha of the group simply flicked its ears and blinked at the human.

“Maybe you don’t understand, but you know intent…” Thorne said with a soft smile gracing his lips. He would make a slow movement, bringing his left behind his back and his right to his heart. He gave a short and steady bow. “The hunter respects his fellow hunters. But I will not be prey this day.” He said as he rose back up, his smile fading. It was replaced with the gaze of a soldier ready to fight.

The sand coyotes seemed to tilt their heads and then recoiled at the gaze from the human as they went from confused to understanding. They, to his surprise, then all lowered their heads as if to bow. It was as swift and steady as his, and once their eyes met again, the alpha let a bark.

It echoed against the rocks and rumbled with the force of the earth itself. It didn’t feel like a threat, but a command. One that was swiftly obeyed as the pack all began to turn their back and walk away as the alpha lingered. After a moment, it would turn and dash off away from Thorne, leaving him standing there.

His tension left his body and he fell to his knees. ‘Okay. The animals can… sense me? Understand my intentions or words? Why am I alive…?’ Thorne quickly got back to his feet and grabbed his pack. He looked about. No other signs of any animals were about. ‘Not even vultures in the desert. Were those coyotes tracking me?’

He got himself dusted off and stretched, adjusting his cloth covering and pack on his shoulder until he was ready to set off. It was another hour before dusk claimed the day before turning into night. By his calculations, he had another night of full moon light before the phases shifted to wink out his nightly travels. He knew he should be getting close to that ship and then he could sail by daylight. He was a full day ahead of his Master’s predictions.

He took off again, a brisk walk. He didn’t want to risk a jog or a run, not with how his feet still ached. His mind went back to the chance encounter. ‘Is it something to do with this mark…? Is it protecting me? Fucking magic. Or maybe the animals in this world are highly intelligent? I guess it makes sense. Ponies for god’s sake! But that must mean they have intelligent dogs or something, right? Begs the question, if the lesser races of creatures react that way to me, how will the ponies react? Fear? Apprehension? And will they know that it’s because of some curse mark? If it is that… Maybe it’s some natural instinct. They’d need something like that in order to reach the top of the food chain. This is how we humans got there.’

Thorne sighed. “More questions and no real answers. I’m going to need a journal at this rate. And I’ve not even hit the mainland yet. Fuck.”

The gentle sounds of waves crashing against sandy shores were a bittersweet melody. He could smell the salt in the air, though that gave him no pleasure. He had hoped this world would be vastly different and it was all fresh water, but his mind told him ‘hope in one hand, shit in the other, and see which fills faster’.

He thanked Satan, God & Jesus, Buddha, Allah, Universal Karma, Odin, and whatever else heathen god he could that the boat he was looking for was actually right in front of him. That thanks, however, turned into vitriol the moment he inspected it and saw that it was literally a raft with a paddle. He wasn’t much for religion, but now he was feeling that the universe was just playing with him. Sure, he had dabbled in the occult, and that could be seen as ‘Satanic’, but he never took it so far as to sacrifice a goat or something.

It was beginning to get dawn now and he would have light. He had made it far ahead of schedule, but he thanked his tireless perseverance for that fact. Though his body screamed at him. ‘Can rest when you’re dead, Thorne,’ he kept telling himself. He knew he would be dead if his body decided to shut down on him, however. He was already on borrowed time and he kept accumulating a debt.

“Two days at sea. I might be able to cut that down to one day if I don’t throw my body out while working the paddle. No idea where I’ll make landfall and if the seas turn rough, then I’m probably screwed. But the weather has been pleasant enough, so maybe I won’t end up in a storm.” He said aloud, inspecting his ride.

‘Let’s just not tempt fate, shall we? Saying things like that is how shit happens.’

His gaze went up and down the beach and then out to the sea. His raft looked solid and well kept, but he would inspect the wood further. It held several logs that had been strewn together to make a base for a centaur the size of his Master, lending credence that perhaps he had used it to get out and go into the ocean on several treks.

That thought then led him to believe there had to be some kind of blockade. If he could get off the island, why was his Master stuck there? Then that brought the question of why the asshole lived so far from the shore. Again Thorne had several questions that weren’t likely to be answered with him standing around. He took solace in the fact he would be using his arms instead of his legs and he had a place to sit both himself and his pack. It wasn’t heavy--far lighter than the gear he was used to carrying, but to be relieved of it was something to take joy in.

Thorne sat his pack on the raft. After his inspection, he gripped the edges and pushed it out to sea. The waves fought against him as he trudged into the shallows, pushing his wooden lifeboat as hard as he could to fight the current that threatened to push it back into the sandy beachhead. Once it was deep enough, the currents began to suction them both back, bidding them entrance into the sea. With a swift motion, the human bounded up into the saddle of his ride and grabbed at the paddle.

He was worn and exhausted, but it wouldn’t stop him. He at least needed to hit calmer, deeper waters before he could really relax. With heavy grunts, the man exerted his willpower over his craft, swiftly swinging the paddle from one side to the other, digging it deep into the water. Each stroke sent ripples through the waves as well as his body. It took every fiber of his being to steer and direct the thing, but it became easier with each motion.

Salty ocean spray mixed with the lines of sweat that had accumulated on his body. It would have been refreshing if he weren’t on a timetable. He still had his poncho to protect him from the majority of the wet splashes, but he was swiftly becoming a soaked rat. Thorne still relished the feeling of being on the water, meaning his journey was entering the last leg. He enjoyed the sensation so much he actually burst into song. It was an old song that he enjoyed annoying other sailors with, but he found it oddly comforting as he went deeper into the blue beyond.

He belted it out with a cheerful smile. It was actually the first earnest smile he had since coming to this new strange land. On the horizon he could see clouds in the sky. It was the first clouds he had seen as well.

It was a promise of better things to come.

Author's Note

If you're wonder what song Thorne is belting out, it's "In The Navy" - The Village People.